


An Offer He Can't Refuse

by JamieAvenBell



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Canon Divergence, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Depression, Drunken Confessions, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Role Reversal, Sad Victor Nikiforov, Since I need domestic Victuuri bliss, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smitten Victor Nikiforov, Soba ni ite, Starting Over, Stay Close to me, Vicchan Lives, Viktor moves to Hasetsu right after the GPF, dead dog swap, what if Viktor bombed at the Socchi GPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-17 13:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14190093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieAvenBell/pseuds/JamieAvenBell
Summary: What if Makka died but Vic-chan lives? – Four times consecutive champion Viktor Nikiforov bombs his free skate at the GPF in Sochi and locks himself in a bathroom stall afterward. But it’s not the feisty Russian Tiger who kicks down his door angrily. Instead, a soft knock sounds through the silence and Viktor faces the worried look of a Japanese skater he’s never acknowledged before.“I want to make you an offer.” Yuuri Katsuki starts, a nervous tinge covering his words, marvelous chocolate brown eyes full of worry.And Viktor falls harder than ever before.





	1. What if ...?

**Author's Note:**

> Same procedure as always - my life's a mess and it's worse than ever ... so I'm returning to write fanfiction. Is there a better cure?

Viktor Nikiforov, age 26, four-time consecutive figure skating champion blinked at the chaotic rush of the camera flashes. He was used to shouts, to six questions asked at the same time. He had been sitting at press conferences similar to this one more often than he could actually remember. But up until now the questions and praising had been a lot nicer than today.  
“How are you feeling after placing 6th?” – “Do you think that you’ve reached the peak of your career now?” - “Are you going to retire after this shameful result?”

Again and again. All those voices, all those shouts were repeating themselves causing Viktor a pounding headache. Even if he tried to answer there was no way to listen to his own thoughts. Comforting, in its own way, but stressing nevertheless since it had been a harder and harder task to mute his silent reproaches and accusations today.  
Some part of Viktor still wished he would feel something. Anything at all. But since that dreadful phone call, there was only a never-ending emptiness inside him. It was not the everyday-void which Viktor had already gotten used to. This lack of sensation ran deeper than every struggle to keep smiling and save his composure he had to fight during the last months. There was no real reason for being here. There was no real reason why he had to endure this press conference. Aside from Yakov’s yelling that Viktor had to attend no matter what.

The biggest part of Viktor wished that those dreadful journalists would focus on this year’s GPF best three. Not him. Anyone else but not him.

“SILENCE!” Yakov shouted over the overbearing mess. “Otherwise we’ll end this conference right this moment!”  
It took a couple of minutes but the reporters sat down once more and tried to be quiet for once. The other skaters and coaches shuffled restlessly. Viktor settled his gaze on the white desk in front of him. Why couldn’t he drown himself in the cold smooth surface?      
“You, front row, Russia’s Sport Magazine.” Yakov ordered a man in his fifties to stand up and ask his question.  
Viktor barely suppressed a sigh. Neither Yakov nor Yuri were being considerate of him. Instead, his younger rink mate was boasting as loudly as always whereas Yakov insisted that Viktor had to do his job. They’ve dragged him down further demanding the last bits of himself, those bits Viktor wanted to keep together but were ripped from his hands easily. Represent Russia. Bring home more gold medals. Draw me a routine. Secure the prize money in order to support the team. Choreograph for me. Want. Want. Want. Do. Do. Do.

All they did were ordering him around. All they wanted was another piece of him until nothing was left to give anymore.

Maybe it was a bit cruel towards Yakov who partly brought him up but Viktor had always thought his coach would be a bit more understanding. “No, I will not allow you to withdraw because your dog died. You are going out there, Vitya, and claim your next gold medal. No objections!”, he had barked this morning in Viktor’s cold, cold, cold dark, dark, dark hotel room.

 

* * *

 

“Vitya!” Yakov’s next curse tore Viktor out of his swirling thoughts.  
The reporter repeated his question once more. “Mr. Nikiforov, what are going to do next season? How are going to overcome your predicament?”  
Several years ago he would have smiled sheepishly and admitted to training harder in order to create a surprise no one would ever think of. Today he pressed his lips to a tight line and tried not to cry in front of every reporter present. It was so hard to focus; it was so unbelievable exhausting to keep himself upright.  
“I … I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly. He was too tired and worn-out to tell white lies anymore. He didn’t care anymore what those reporters would write about him.

Years and years of his life were dedicated to becoming the Living Legend of today’s figure skating circuit – but what for? He had no friends, except Chris who refused to be pushed aside anymore. He had no significant others and Viktor was utterly disgusted by another one-night-stand that would end in waking up alone on the next morning. That would lead to another bunch of pictures getting leaked into the internet.

He had been lonely before, he had lost inspiration several times – but he had had Makkachin. She had always been at his side, showering him with unconditional affection and loyalty.  
All Viktor owned now was an empty empty empty, cold cold cold apartment to return to. Showcases full of medals as a proof how successful he was.  
Gold medals didn’t hug him at night, didn’t warm him up when he was freezing, didn’t hold the nightmares at bay.  

“Does that mean that you are going to retire officially?” The noisy reporter continued.  
Yakov choked on his breath but before he could answer in his athlete’s place Viktor opened his mouth, letting out words he didn’t think about at all. He wasn’t even sure how to voice his answer.  He just wished to be out of this noisy hell of reporters. Out. Out. Out.  
“Maybe”, Viktor sighed at last, “it would have been better if haven’t returned this year.”  
“Vitya!” Yakov almost exploded out of anger but Viktor had already pushed back his stool and was on his way to the double doors that lead inside the arena.

He probably did a suicide on his professional skating career but he couldn’t care less. Skating prevented that he took care of his beloved dog. He wished he could feel rage or frustration but his solemn thoughts echoed through the void in his soul. Without figure skating, without Makka – there was nothing left of him.

Shoulders slumped and gaze cast downwards, Viktor lurked out of the conference room and never took a look back at the commotion he had caused.

He had left Makka alone when she needed him. He hadn’t walked Makka like she was used to, through her favorite peaceful park with the big fountain and the fattest pigeons of St. Petersburg. Instead, the dog sitter hadn’t grabbed her leash as she dashed off after a jarring car horn being blown. Makka died on impact as a truck struck her while running off without warning.

Viktor slipped out into the cold concrete hallway, still not looking back but with no destination in mind either. Why should he continue to push himself through figure skating if he couldn’t be there for the one being in the world that always loved and comforted him?  
No gold medal could bring Makka back from the dead. No routine could color the darkness inside him.  
Viktor was lost, Viktor was done for.

Viktor didn’t notice the gaze of chocolate brown eyes following him worriedly.


	2. Meeting in a bathroom stall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again ... everything starts in a tiny bathroom stall. :)

2.

 _It’s not your business to mess with. Stay out of it._ Although Yuuri repeated those sentences several times in his head the idea of looking for Viktor hadn’t left him completely. His fears of intruding on a gold medals champion’s privacy battled with the everlasting itch to reach out to him. He’d recognized the empty, void-like gaze Viktor had carried at the press conference. He knew the low, emotionless voicing per heart.

By all means, he had experienced these signs of an upcoming or already full-blown depression. More than once. Still, he’d only watched Viktor leave. He stayed in his chair, stayed glued to the conference table but turned out the chaotic mess in front of him. He could only focus on one thing: Viktor’s retreating form. Back bent heavily under a burden no one should carry alone.  

Desperately Yuuri wished to be braver. Or at least as courageous as needed to stand up and follow Viktor.

He never got the chance to do so since Mr. Feltsmann suddenly ended the press conference for all skaters but the mob of reporters didn’t let anyone leave. They wanted their questions answered, they wanted to shout all the rumors and gossip and almost crushed Mr. Feltsman with their ambush. Celestino, always quick on his feet, jerked Yuuri away from the journalists and dragged him off in another direction.

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri …” Minako started to voice her doubts but stopped beforehand. “Are you sure?”  
For the last time, Yuuri turned back to Minako who held a caramel brown heap of fur tightly. They were standing in front a men’s bathroom, the one furthest away from regular visitors of the GPF. It was long after every other figure skater, coach and staff member had left, half of the lights were already turned off.  
“Yes”, Yuuri admits. “If I were in his position I would have fled up to here.”  
“But … I don’t want you to get hurt.” Minako revealed. “I don’t know how to pick you up again if your long-time idol, your own personal figure skating God rejects you harshly.”  
„You don’t have to.“ Yuuri straightened his pulled back hair once more, checked without attracting attention whether his Japanese training jacket fit him well. “If I were in his position right now, I would be glad that someone comes looking for me.”

“I’ll wait outside nevertheless.” Minako’s voice was firm, her gaze relentless. “The second I’ll hear something suspicious I’ll barge in, do you understand? In the meantime, I’ll make sure that no one else interrupts you.”  
“Thank you, Minako-sensei.”  
Yuuri didn’t get a chance to speak with Viktor during the GPF, he’d known that it would be impossible. He wished to talk to him after placing on the podium but now his bronze medal felt shallow. If Viktor declared his retirement, he would have regretted to let this chance slide though.

Besides, Yuuri liked attaining impossible things.

That’s why he took a deep breath and pushed through the bathroom door with a long, confident stride.

The lights above flickered until they illuminated smooth surfaces and cold tiles. Yuuri’s heart sank. No one would sit here in darkness, would he? But the last cabin door was closed, the only one of five possibilities.  
“Mr. Nikiforov?”, he asked under his breath. His words were thrown through the empty bathroom, echoed from everywhere but nowhere.  
No answer.  
“Mr. Nikiforov? Are you here?”  
Still, no answer, but Yuuri caught barely the soft whisper of clothes. A muffled gasp followed by a low whine that someone tried to suppress hastily – it betrayed the silence of several seconds ago. Yuuri had guessed right, sometimes his intuition was his best weapon.

He took another deep breath before he knocked softly on the toilet door. Knock. Knock. Knock. Three times he rapped his knuckles against the wood. The soft sounds rippled through the silence like pebbles thrown into a calm lake.  

All evidence of another man being present stopped immediately as someone held his breath on the other side of the door. He probably hoped that Yuuri would leave, but he would not back down now. He still had to options: First, the door was locked and he continued to pretend that no one else was there. Second, the door was opened because Viktor secretly wished to be found.  
With a little push, Yuuri opened the door inwards and was greeted with the sight of a Viktor Nikiforov he’d never expected. Aside from the signature silver bangs and the red and white jacket of the Russian Olympic team nothing reminded Yuuri of his life-long idol. Viktor’s eyes were red and puffy, streams of his tears still visible on his cheeks.  
But what startled Yuuri the most was the utter solitude that engulfed Viktor. It had been almost two hours since the disastrous press conference still no one seemed to bother where Viktor had gone. Neither a friend was comforting the skating champion nor his coach. He wasn’t talking on the phone and since Yuuri had watched the outer bathroom door for a couple of minutes no one had emerged to get Viktor something. Like a box of tissues he obviously needed.

„What is it?“, Viktor snarled, interrupting Yuuri’s inspection. „Do you want a commemorative photo? Should I sign your Viktor Nikiforov memorabilia since it’s the last time to do so? Or do want a better shot of the Living Legend bawling his eyes out before you sell the photos to the press?”  
Viktor’s gaze was hard and threatening. For a second Yuuri’s breath hitched in his throat. The man in front of him was still beautiful, mesmerizing even, but he never thought to catch such an unforgiving and cold expression on the ever charming skating champion. Maybe Minako had been right all along …?  
No. Viktor had always been a very proud and overly confident man – Yuuri had dared to approach a hurt predator, ashamed of his own feelings. Even the tamest, most beautiful predator would pounce.  
“That was a cruel thing to say, Mr. Nikiforov.” He replied, trying hard to keep his voice even. “But I’ve heard the Russian team speaking of Makkachin’s death during the earlier warm-up. Otherwise, I would have been really offended.”

Viktor huffed and his shoulders sank deeper. His smile was forced - Yuuri could tell easily, he even avoided his gaze. He’d never seen one interview or video where Viktor didn’t face the cameras head on. He always sparkled, left his audience entranced.  
“I’m sorry.” But today his voice seemed strained as if he was pulling this act hardly together. Only seconds away from a complete breakdown. “Please, forget this little outburst, Mr. Katsuki, and congratulations on your bronze medal.”  
Yuuri almost leaped out of joy. Viktor knew him, although he pronounced his name like most Europeans: Ka-tsu-ki. Viktor just read the syllables and let them road off his tongue.  
“Thank you, yet I’m pretty sure I should have settled with fourth place. I don’t feel like celebrating a bronze medal without you on the podium.”  
Viktor’s smile wavered.

“And it’s called Kats-ki, you swallow the u.” Yuuri corrected him gently. He could tease him a tiny little bit since Viktor had been so rude two seconds ago, right? “If you want to, you can just say Yuuri instead.”  
_Yes, call me by my given name_ , his traitorous brain chanted though. How often did he dream of Viktor praising him, calling him tenderly and sending him a loving smile like he was the most beautiful skater on the planet. Except for the living legend himself.  
Viktor fought hard to maintain his public persona, unshed tears were still gathering at the corner of his ocean blue eyes. “Alright Yuuri, then please call me Viktor, too”, he said slowly. “Why do look for me in an empty bathroom then?”  
If he hadn’t been on a mission, he would have fainted on spot.

 

* * *

 

“I’ve looked for you because I wanted to make an offer.” Yuuri started, a nervous tinge coating his words. “I can only assume how annoying those reporters might be, I’m not that famous as a skater. No offense but you looked tired the whole season, Ni…”, he swallowed. He could do this! “Vi-Viktor …-san.” He did it at least halfway. “You skated like you were physically on the ice but mentally someplace elsewhere. I can tell, it happens to me more regularly than I like to admit …”

Viktor listened carefully to his words. He was attentive, almost absorbing every syllable but Yuuri feared he would dissect them, in order to find proof that Yuuri just wanted to use him to his own advantage. It hurt. Mostly, because Viktor seemed to expect a betrayal sooner or later.

“After Makkachin’s death, you probably hit the bottom of your personal low, not that you didn’t skate well in your free but …” Yuuri lifted a hand, nervously grazing his neck.  
Viktor raised an eyebrow questioningly. “But?”  
“Compared to your performances at the first years of your senior career it looked like you wished to step off the ice as fast as possible.” Yuuri almost avoided his gaze but somehow he managed to stare into these sad ocean blue eyes. “You were brilliant and beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but your performances felt so empty to me.”

Viktor stiffened, tried to act nonchalantly and failed. Blue orbs changed into lifeless voids and Yuuri drowned in his sorrow.

 _No._ He almost cringed and backed off. He had to stay on the surface. otherwise, he would never reach Viktor. _I am Yuuri Katsuki, 23, Japan’s ace. I have accomplished an international scholarship. I have won bronze at my first GPF with an unpolished routine. I have qualified for Worlds as well as Four Continents._ Instead, he placed a hand on the wooden surface of the bathroom stall and stabilized himself. _By April next year, I’ll get my degree that I’ll master in a foreign language plus my dance instructor diploma. By far, I am not worthless. I am not empty._  
Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Yuuri had been looking for Viktor so that he could help him not in order to be helped out.  
Viktor looked right through him as Yuuri gathered his courage to continue on.

“I just want you to give a chance to clear your head, a take breather.” Suddenly his words were spilling out fast like a plug had been yanked out of a drain. “My family owns an onsen in Hasetsu, Japan. It’s a nice, cozy little town and we got our own ice rink there. It’s a bit outdated but peaceful. Located at the shore with several thermal baths it’s a good place to relax and recharge.”  
“And?” Viktor interrupted him almost rudely. “Do you want to kidnap me and live with me there until I’m ready to face figure skating again? Or what?”

To his own surprise, Yuuri started to smile. For real.

 “No, I’m studying and training in Detroit.” He searched for his phone and unlocked it. The screen showed a picture of Vic-chan looking up to him happily. “This is my poodle. The first months I went to college I missed him a lot and Vic-chan didn’t take my absence well. He refused to eat and just waited at the gate for me to return, in the rain, in the snow, always. Sometimes he would sneak out and bark at the entrance of the rink for hours until he was too tired to do so. My family feared that Vic-chan would die of loneliness so I smuggled him into my dorm and he lived there in secret with me and Phichit. The thing is: We got caught and I almost lost my right to live in the dorm and to study further. Apparently, they didn’t like my argument, that Vic-chan is damaging less than the dozen of Phichit’s hamsters. Those devilish fur balls are chewing on each damn cable they get their claws on.” Yuuri chuckled lightly. He loved those hellish monsters still. “My college was not amused to say at least. Celestino, my coach, yelled even louder how I could risk my college admission since it is tied to his coaching. Well, it is his loss, not mine.”

Yuuri had already decided to sever ties with Celestino the moment he graduated. He was a good coach, maybe not demanding enough. Maybe he couldn’t put a finger on Yuuri’s often odd behavior but not defending his most precious dog – that was reason enough for Yuuri to quit. The three of them could have thought about another solution but Celestino outright rejected everything apart from sending Vic-chan back home. Or – the worst – find a new owner for him if Yuuri couldn’t pay the fees to transfer his dog.

 

* * *

 

Viktor steeled himself. He pulled himself up, with his last bits of strength, cold eyes turning unyielding. “Should I coach you since I’ve committed figure skating press suicide?” 

Yuuri shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare to ask.” Unless Viktor insisted, well … “Probably would need twelve champagne glasses of liquid courage before even considering something like this …” He stopped before inching away out of habit, pushed up his glasses to conceal his up-building nervousness. For years he had dreamt to brush through those silver tresses just once, Viktor’s overwhelming presence in the small bathroom stall made Yuuri giddy. “Back to the story … My old ballet instructor who insisted to cheer for me at the GPF wanted to help bring Vic-chan back home but she’s not the time to look after him. I really can’t afford to live alone as a college student, my tuition, and the skating fees, well … you know how expensive it is, don’t you? And since my parents are busy with the onsen I can’t burden them further … They’ve already done so much for me … I mean I wished I they could watch me here in Sochi but they’re always busy and …”  
“You’re rambling, Yuuri.”

He swallowed loudly and bit down his fears and worries before he continued. Just in case, he buried his hands in his training jacket.  
“All I want is that you take care of him as long as you can till I graduate by the end of March. He’ll be thirteen next spring so he’s a bit of a handful. I’ll cover all the expenses, for sure.” Nevertheless, Yuuri would do everything for his beloved Vic-chan. He even took a part-time-job in Detroit to make sure he could afford all the treatments a dog of his age needed. “No one would suspect me at home, so Hasetsu is safe for you to take a well-deserved break. By the way, I named him after you, so I thought it would fit if Vic-chan …”A loud yip stopped him and he turned to the sound immediately.

“Yuuri, I’m sorry to interrupt if you’re making out with Viktor already.”  
“Minako-sensei!” Yuuri gasped; blushing scarlet. “Stop babbling nonsense!”  
Minako’s face appeared at the door a wriggling caramel brown toy poodle in her arms. The moment the dog saw Yuuri he took a leap and ran to his owner.  
“Good boy.” Yuuri picked Vic-chan up and the little one instantly licked his face. Yuuri barely suppressed a chuckle. At the door, Minako quietly shuffled outside. “Say hello to Viktor.”  
He set the dog down and Vic-chan cautiously sniffed at Viktor’s fingers before he nudged them with his tiny head.  
“You just look like a pup”, Viktor whispered as fresh tears were streaming down his face.

“You don’t have to if it’s too hard.” Yuuri almost bent down to pick Vic-chan up but Viktor petted the small poodle lightly. “I don’t know how to pay you … Well, I’m sure my parents won’t charge you for your stay when I explain it …”  
Viktor held up a hand and Yuuri almost swallowed his tongue. So close! He couldn’t almost count each and every silky shining silver hair. “Basically you’re offering me your parent’s home to hide, a paid vacation and a secluded place to skate, as long as I take care of your dog?”  
“As far as I can tell from pictures and videos Makkachin loved you very much, she was happy so I figured you treat dogs well.” Yuuri took a step back though, abandoning the thought if Viktor liked to be petted on the head, too. “Although I really love your skating, I’m not inviting The Living Legend or the best skater of the century to my home, just you, a fellow dog person, Viktor-san.” He smiled shyly, realizing his words and almost choked on them. He insulted him. He insulted him degrading him from all his titles and medals.

He had never been a smooth talker …

“It’s a bit selfish to suddenly force my dog on you but I don’t want you to retire the moment I finally closed the gap and … I just wanted to help you. Somehow.” He cringed visibly as Viktor stared him down with wide eyes. Retreat!, Yuuri’s instincts screeched. Retreat now! “If you let me … Ah, well, yes, it’s okay. That’s a bit overbearing, isn’t it? I crossed some lines, right? Why would you need a place to stay, you’re Viktor Nikiforov, your friends and …” Yuuri closed his eyes and stopped himself before he could worsen the situation even more. How to ruin the first talk ever with your idol? Mess with his life and order him around. Viktor would never accept. Never-ever. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.” Yuuri gave him a quick bow and turned; ready to flee. “I didn’t mean to meddle with your life. Moushiwake gozaimasen deshita.” Hopefully, Viktor would grasp the meaning of this apologize.

It had been a bad idea to ask Viktor, the worst. Why should he even consider the offer of a stranger? Of a very stalkerish fan. Yuuri sprinted out of the cabin, the doors swinging inwards again. „Oide, Vic-chan.“ The poodle obediently followed as Yuuri dashed outside. He never wanted to torment his idol with his request, assuming that treating a totally heart-broken dog was a good way to grieve over Makkachin’s death. He just _knew_ , had a feeling at least, that Viktor could be a valuable friend for Vic-chan. That this could have worked. Eventually. Somehow.

Yuuri knew another thing though: He needed at least a dozen of champagne flutes to drown this memory.

“Yuuri?”, Minako asked the second he emerged. “Is everything alright?”  
“Viktor refused.” He explained shortly, gently picking up the toy poodle which encircled his legs. “Come on, I should go changing before the banquet starts.”  
His smile was strained, his voice almost shook. Still, Yuuri didn’t dare to look back whether a pair of sad ocean blue eyes gazed after him.

They certainly did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally Viktor gave Yuuri his answer in chapter 2. But then I realized I would have to skip the banquet. :O How can I skip the banquet? * throws hands into the air *  
> ( aka an extensive search for new vocabulary ... hooray ;) )
> 
> Chapter 3 will arrive next week.  
> As always comments and kudos are love.


	3. The Banquet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, this chapter sure has gotten wordy ... :D

3.

Viktor stared at the spot that Yuuri occupied seconds ago. Dumb-founded. Baffled. Confused.

A selfish request, selfish request, selfish … The words echoed in Viktor’s thoughts. That man had an odd way of claiming selfishness. In the end, Yuuri would only benefit in one way of this bargain: His dog would be happy. How could anyone call that selfish?

The hinges of the cabin door creaked as it swung in and out. He weighed his options carefully though. He could agree. Out. He could stay. In. What more could he possibly lose? In. What if this offer turned out to be a trick? Out. No. Viktor heaved himself up.

He wasn’t known for keeping an eye on his competitors but he did check the figure skating circuit from time to time. He talked with Chris, who knew every single bit of gossip around the globe. Earlier in his career, he liked to watch the routines of his fellows, the lady skaters, the pair dancers - comparing them to his work, analyzing a way to surprise the audience even more. Therefore, the name Katsuki Yuuri was familiar to him as a skater. He heard him several times in the last years but Viktor couldn’t pinpoint him. What kind of music did he choose? What were his strengths? Flaws? He tried to remember but this utterly handsome face had never appeared next to him on a podium. He wouldn’t have forgotten, certainly, he wouldn’t … would he?

Viktor used to know at least a handful of facts of the other skaters. Courtesy of Chris, he had been often up to date about every scandal. But Katsuki Yuuri? He couldn’t remember any juicy details. No affairs, no misbehaving at banquets, no love triangle with two overly enthusiastic fans. News like this never reached the press, figure skaters wouldn’t sell each other out, but they’ve talked. There was no one else to talk to except for fellow skaters who knew the hardships and the benefits as well.

Nevertheless, Viktor couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken with a fellow competitor aside from Chris and the Russian team members. He was shocked, to say at least. What had happened to him? Why and when had he lost interest? Why had no one approached him like Yuuri did?

Had he met Yuuri earlier and didn’t recognize this … Viktor stopped his train of thoughts and apologized silently to his very loved Makka that he had already started swooning over a man. But to his defense: Yuuri was gorgeous. Strikingly beautiful. Shy, but strong-willed. Sweet and caring but honest enough to speak his opinion. Yakov would have killed Viktor three times if he ever smuggled Makka into the dorms he used to stay at as a teenager.

Viktor pushed the cabin door open, stepped outside and started to dash. Yuuri was already gone, but Viktor doubted that he had left the venue.

Yes. Suddenly Viktor’s clouded mind seemed to clear, like a breeze of fresh air dissolving a heavy fog. Yes. A tiny voice appeared in the uproar of his thoughts, getting louder. Yes, he wanted a break. Yes, he wanted to stop being in the spotlight for a bit.

“Yes!” Viktor shouted and pulled the toilet door open as he almost tumbled into a lonesome corridor.

No answer.

Neither Yuuri nor his adorable tiny version of a poodle was anywhere to be found.

“Yuuri?”, Viktor asked, his voice wavering with uncertainty. The name echoed through the corridor, bounced off half-lit lights and vanished into the distance.

“Yuu…” The second vowel died on his lips. Yuuri had vanished. Yuuri had left.

In the end, Viktor had to stay alone.

What had happened to him?, Viktor wondered. The first kind soul he’d met horrified him so that he chased him away with his doubts and questions. He hadn’t believed Yuuri at first, he desperately waited for the hidden advantage which Yuuri would receive. He’d searched frantically for a flaw, a hint that would reveal Yuuri’s real plan. Until Viktor noticed that this selfless man had spoken the truth - Yuuri had fled. Everyone seemed to cut and run after being in Viktor’s presence lately.  

Suddenly his phone started blaring, Yakov’s ringtone spooked him in the silent corridor. He probably wanted to remember him that the banquet was about to start. Viktor pushed him to voicemail though and put his phone away. Suddenly he felt ice-cold. He was shaking under the turmoil of emotions that were barely kept inside. Katsuki Yuuri offered him a way out on a silver platter. The first man since forever who seemed to be genuinely interested in Viktor, just Viktor. The dog-lover, he remembered and smiled; heartbroken. The first person he met in months that easily saw beyond his mask, his act, his lifeless performance and Viktor was dumb enough to let him leave.

Life was cruel.  

“I’m sorry, my loveliest Makka”, Viktor whispered as he fought fresh tears, “You’ve never liked your daddy getting drunk but tonight champagne won’t suffice.”

 

* * *

 

Viktor spotted Yuuri the moment he entered the banquet hall. The man wore an outrageous blue suit that didn’t seem to fit him right, still, Viktor found himself glued to those eyes of molten chocolate. He politely spoke to sponsors and ISU officials, joked with the other skaters, and seemed to avoid his coach Celestino on purpose. Yuuri was almost a feet smaller than Viktor, but he had such beautiful longs legs. On another, more joyful occasion Viktor could have stared the whole evening at those thighs. Probably his whole life.  What had gotten into him? Viktor shook his head violently. The guy offered him a quiet way out and he checked him up like someone in a club or at a dance party. Be grateful, he reminded himself. Don’t make a wrong step which could end up being sold to the media.  
Viktor wouldn’t assume that Yuuri’s now rejected offer could backfire on him. But being an internationally known figure skater for over a decade – he’d seen things, heard things and experienced some on his own, that he would like to forget. Their sport seemed graceful, sparkly and enchanting, under the surface, it wasn’t.

And Viktor? Viktor stayed at the far side of the hall. Exhaustion pulled at him and left no energy for mingling. The ever charming champion who would be the center of attention during those banquets seemed like a fleeting memory – a ghost of his past he couldn’t conjure up today. He saw the curious looks, he heard the whispers and accusations, mostly off records, but no one daring to approach him was the ultimate proof. He wasn’t the shining golden boy anymore. He wasn’t pleasing the whole hall with his jokes and stories about skating. He had lost all his worth. He already waited for the guy or woman who would spat out “If you want to retire you’re not welcome here anymore”. Maybe the little Plisetsky would do him the favor.

Thankfully, did the RSF neither bother him nor serve his head on a silver platter after his disastrous press conference.

 “My dear friend.” Chris’ hand rested on Viktor’s shoulder as if he wanted to steady him. At least he didn’t grab his ass like he used to. “You are miserable to watch. But I’ve got something to lighten your sour mood.”  
On the outside, Viktor was all groomed and well kept. Polished shoes from the best Italian designer. A custom-fit suit that let his eye color and silver bangs shine. He was lightly made up, all the best products to keep his perfect image.  His looks were his best weapon to avoid unnecessary questions, no one dared to ask how he was feeling as long as he _looked_ fine. But, right now, this instance, all Viktor could think about was the joy of a certain brown-eyed man as his dog licked his face. How he wished that Makka would be here, jumping at him like she used to after a long travel. How he wished Makka could slobber him with love once more until he needed a towel to dry.

„Let’s raise our glasses, mon ami.“ Somehow Chris had smuggled two bottles of the strongest Russian vodka available inside. He easily poured them shots and handed one to Viktor. “To the day you’ve abandoned your public persona at last”, he said and Viktor complied by drowning the burning liquid in one go.

“To your first gold medal at a GPF.” Viktor offered, pouring himself another glass. “Cheers!”  
“To the best dog in the world!” Chris continued and took just a sip while Viktor drowned another glass. They stayed on the topic a bit, Viktor listing off all the best qualities of Makka.  
“There will never be a dog like her,” Chris said; face-stricken with sadness. Actually, Chris was a cat person, but he had gotten along with Makka just fine. Viktor would thank him for this favor when he was sober again.  
“To Yuuri Katsuki’s incredible ass.”  
“You’ve got a good taste, mon ami.”  
After a couple of shots, Viktor didn’t know what he was toasting to anymore. He just wanted to fill himself with something, anything, even vodka would be better than the black void inside. The alcohol lulled his sorrows, kept him warm and muted his annoying thoughts. He didn’t want to think about his skating career, his future plans, Makka or the rejection he suffered by Katsuki Yuuri.

He just wished that his blackout would finally arrive.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri watched Viktor out of the corner of his eye as the other skaters did their best to ignore him completely. Well, honestly, Viktor ignored everyone aside from Chris.

The idea of the Living Legend retiring frightened on half of the attendants. Who would guarantee now that the events were fully packed and sold out? Who would provide enough news to talk about? The other half already sharpened their blades to train harder as ever before. The top spot could be vacant soon and each and everyone wanted to be the next legend of figure skating. Wanted the glory, the money, and the fans. To Yuuri, both sides were behaving disgustingly. Yes, the thought of Viktor retiring made him anxious since he always imagined how Viktor would slowly shift to the next step of an athlete’s career. As a spokesperson or a commentator. Yuuri would watch every show Viktor choreographed in the future. He would spend every possible penny for a ticket. Why? He simply adored his skating.

But Yuuri could push aside his wishes and dreams, they were easily replaced with worry.  

The steady flow of the vodka concerned Yuuri. He wasn’t innocent either, but every time he needed himself to drown in alcohol Phichit accompanied him to bars and clubs. Yuuri could let loose completely trusting Phichit to keep an eye on him. Well, his best friend and roommate encouraged his shenanigans but always made sure to chase away bothersome suitors. All those Chads, Brads, Steves, and Hunters who just wanted to have a quick fuck in the next semi-quiet spot. Yuuri, how fragile and muddled his mind could be, didn’t need the guilt of waking up in a stranger’s room. He had enough to deal without causing problems in his drunken stupor.

A crowd started to gather around Viktor. They were too scared to ask about his possible retirement but curious what would happen next. On the front line, Plisetsky and Babicheva from the Russian team took out their smartphones. The junior champion shouted some angry Russian words and Viktor did turn to them. He was clearly drunk. Pupils dilated and blown, red blotches blooming on his cheeks – but to Yuuri he looked even more lost than in the silent bathroom stall.

It hurt. It ached like a physical pain. Like a slap across the face that Viktor had to endure and endure although he had given so much to everyone present. They had cheered him on and watched his routines gleefully, but no one dared to reach out to him.  

Remembering the utter lack of friends and confidants who went looking for Vikor, Yuuri took long strides to traverse through the banquet hall. For all the times Phichit had saved him, he would pay back the favor now and make Viktor stop. Still, it was a miracle that the Living Legend was standing upright after consuming so much vodka in almost no time.

The crowd didn’t want to budge at first but Yuuri slipped through the narrow spaces and found his way through. Viktor had inspired and motivated him half of his life, he would endure some nasty-placed elbows now.

“That’s enough.” He told Viktor in a steady voice and pried the glass out of his hand. “You’ve clearly dru…”  
“YOU CAME BACK!” Suddenly Yuuri was enveloped by a fancy suit and the scent of pines and musk – a poster from the perfume add hang in his room in Detroit but it had been way too expensive for Yuuri to buy. Before he could protest he was pressed against a firm chest and a pair of hands wandered to the small of his back. “I thought you had left me.”

Viktor. Trembling. Sighing. Giggling. Clinging. All at once.  
Yuuri almost stopped breathing. It was so much information to take in, to feel, to touch, to breathe in.  
Protesting against all his instincts Yuuri hugged him back and drew the Living Legend close. It felt so right – and he wasn’t even drunk so that alcohol did lower his inhibitions. ( Since Minako made sure he had eaten enough before he entered the banquet hall and Yuuri had steadily sipped on two glasses of exquisite champagne. )  
“Don’t leave me alone”, Viktor whispered. He almost seemed to beg, shuffling him closer. “Please …”  
“You rejected …”  
“I did not!” The Living Legend started to shake violently. “I needed time to think but you vanished before I could give you an answer.”  
Oh.

Ohhhhhhhhhh.

Damn his anxiety. He was always assuming the worst case even with Viktor.

Damn this damn crowd damn watching.

“Shit!”, Yuuri cursed and pushed Viktor away with so much force the Russian stumbled backward a few steps until he hit the table.  
The crowd went livid. More smartphones were held up; ready to catch the juicy lover’s quarrel their users anticipated now.  
That’s why I sometimes hate people, Yuuri thought bitterly. His mind raced in order to find a solution how he could coax Viktor into leaving the banquet hall without everyone thinking he was about to bang the totally drunk Living Legend.

 

* * *

 

 Yuuri fought hard to keep his focus. Perform. He had to perform a role. Tell them a story. Something that would satisfy them for the time being. A smile spread on Yuuri’s lips. He always loved to perform, even more without being scored, plus he would do everything for Viktor. He worked his ass off over several years in order to stand with him on the same ice. He could add a little show, too. Tell a story, sell a dream, offer a fantasy. How often did Yuuri imagine that Viktor would show more interest in him than skating? He couldn’t count anymore. Naturally, he wasn’t that innocent at age 23.  Yuuri straightened his back and readjusted his blue-framed glasses, his smile turning into a smirk. Every partner should be happy as hell to have Viktor at their side. Having captured the attention and earned the love and trust of Viktor would be like an invisible amour of unyielding confidence. Therefore, Yuuri oozed out confidence and took a step toward the Russian legend.

“Viktor, really”, he quipped playfully. “Where did Chris vanish? Shouldn’t he have an eye on you?” Yuuri was speaking loud enough that everyone present could hear. “Come on, it’s no fun drinking all alone. You can answer all those annoying questions tomorrow at the _official press conference_ Mr. Feltsman surely has announced. For now, we should celebrate Chris’ first gold medal. A banquet is held to have fun with your friends.” Yuuri added a little pout like a slightly needy boyfriend would do. “It’s my first GPF and we haven’t spent five minutes together.”  
Suddenly Viktor was back on him, heavily leaning on his side. Arms crossed over Yuuri’s chest, faces cheek to cheek. Several gaps went through the crowds, disbelieving laughter. On the floor, Viktor’s fancy dress pants laid abandoned.  

“How did you … When did you?” Yuuri was at loss for words. “Vik-Viktor!”, he blurted as out as ashamed as possible. He even forgot to address his idol probably.  
“Yes, Yuuri?” A heated cheek rubbed against his face. Viktor, a head taller, was leaning heavily on him. Maybe he did it on purpose but Yuuri could feel every exquisite shape and curve and bulge of Viktor’s body. Concentrate! Yuuri shouted continuously in his mind. Concentrate! Don’t give them a scandal. Don’t. Think. About. Bulges. DON’T!  
“Get your pants back on!”, he hollered, panicked.  
“It’s so much nicer without them, Yuuuuri.”  
“Now!”  
Chuckles and giggles erupted within the spectators as Yuuri frantically thought of a smooth way out. Including all clothes in their respected places.

“What’s my reward for behaving like a good boy?” Viktor whispered close to Yuuri’s ear.Focus. Hot breath. Focus. A feather-light touch. Focus. His imagination was running wild sending Yuuri pictures how Viktor could nibble on his earlobe if he would just come an inch closer. Kami-sama! Yuuri blushed furiously. He just wanted to help Viktor out of his misery. He never wished that his most secret dreams and fantasies would turn into reality.  
Soft music was still playing in the distance. “How about a dance?”  
That seemed to satisfy Viktor. The pleasant weight vanished.

Yuuri turned to the crowd of spectators and his rage flared up. His skin almost cackled, the pool of emotions, steadily building up like lava within a smoking volcano, almost burst out.    
“You.” Yuuri tilted his head to a Russian teenager. Screw manners for once, the longer the evening went the more furious Yuuri got thanks to all of this jerks.  
The blond’s eyes narrowed.  “What is it, loser?”  
“How about you stop recording and finally help your senior?”  
“Why should I?”  
“Because that’s common sense?” Yuuri barely suppressed a grimace. “Because his success guarantees your skating facility money, fame, and opportunities. You should be a bit more grateful.”  
Plisetsky snorted. “Who cares? He should just retire without making this fuss.”  
“Oh, wow, so the Russian Junior GPF winner has not an ounce of respect in his bones.” Yuuri turned to Ms. Babicheva. “How about you?”  
The redhead smiled though. “I’m just documenting so that I can tease Viktor later on. No harm done.”  
“Is that so?” Yuuri’s voice cooled down dangerously as he gestured through the hall. He ignored all the other gazes focused on him. “No harm done?”

“He doesn’t want anyone to take care of him, probably thinks it’s a sign of weakness for a Russian skating God. He has always been the unreachable perfection, we commoners are below him, but apparently, he’s not perfect at all. So I’m recording for future reference.”  
Yuuri frowned. “Great. I’m starting to understand how all this happened in the first place.”  
“And who are you to him?”, Plisetsky asked, finally stuffing his phone back into his suit jacket.  
“As if you would really care.”

 

* * *

 

The focus of the spectators shifted to the other members of the Russian team immediately. Yuuri felt a bit guilty to lessen the tension this way. But it was Plisetsky’s and Babicheva’s fault to answer honestly in the first place. Some reporters or officials would be too preoccupied to follow Viktor’s every step now. For sure.  
“I’m all good, shall we?” Viktor returned – thank God fully clothed – and slid his hand in Yuuri’s. They fingers intertwined so naturally Yuuri almost gaped at their linked hands.  
“Oi! Dumbass!”, Plisetsky shouted and stomped in their direction. “Don’t spread bullshit and leave. What do think you are? You good for nothing third place!”  
“Don’t mind the little Yuri.” Viktor piped in. “He’s as dangerous as a kitten.”  
“I’m the Russian Ice TIGER, old man!”  
“See. Angry kitten. Always meowing, fangs bared but no claws to attack.” Something similar to a fond smile appeared on Viktor’s face. “What do you want to do now?”

Without another exchange, Yuuri maneuvered through the dispersing crowd and headed to the dance floor. Some gazes followed them still but most of the guests split into smaller groups. Deep inside Yuuri sighed heavily. Somehow he avoided a massive scandal. Just a couple of photos of a drunken Viktor without pants should find their way to Instagram. Nothing the world had already seen in countless ads and posters.

“So tell me. What do you want to do?”  
“Baka da yo.” Yuuri let out a soft giggle though. “It’s not about me. What do you want?”  
Viktor almost jumped in front of him, startling Yuuri. Then, he lifted Yuuri’s hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles. “Stay close to me and never leave.”  
“You want to skate your Free now?” Oh, how Yuuri wished to turn back time. Seriously? That should be his answer?  
Viktor made an offended noise and wrinkled his nose at Yuuri’s reply. It was cute. Otherwise, Yuuri would have thought that Viktor tired to use pick-up lines on him. The fanboy side of him really hoped that Viktor was trying to seduce him. The realistic side a.k.a. his big anxiety bully declared that Yuuri would never be enough to ensnare a world champion.  
“Come on.” Yuuri tugged softly at their joined hands. “I’m pretty good at standard. Sadly, everything fun is banned from this event. But no hands below the waistline, understood?”, he added hastily.  
Viktor smiled nevertheless. “That’s a pity.”

They took position, easily flowing into their respective roles. Without agreeing who would lead and follow they stepped onto the dance floor as the first chords strung. Carefree laughter bubbled over Yuuri’s lips because Viktor followed his wide and powerful steps easily, gliding with him, totally in synch, as if they had danced together like this since forever.

If anyone asked Yuuri afterward what he earned for helping Viktor at the Sochi GPF he would happily answer: One dance was more than enough.

 

* * *

 

 Out of breath from laughter and joking and being silly and dancing one dance that somehow stretched over a couple of songs, Yuuri almost collided into Yakov Feltsman who had waited for them to stop.  
“Mr. Feltsman”, Yuuri greeted politely. “I’m sorry I …”  
The Russian coach’s gaze darkened. A mixture of displeasure and disapprovement appeared as Viktor launched himself on Yuuri once more and a Russian curse slipped over his lips before he continued in English. “Thank you for taking care of this heartbroken, totally drunk dumbass.”

“Yakov”, Viktor mumbled tiredly, clinging onto Yuuri like a lifeline. Still, his speech was remarkably clear. “This is Yuuri, he’s also a skater.” The coach grunted as a response. “Oh, and he can dance. He’s a fantastic dancer!”  
Yuuri’s face should resemble a stop light by now. He wanted to duck under a table after hearing all this praise and squeal like the greatest fanboy he certainly was.  
“I’ve seen that.”  
“He likes dogs, Yakov, he has the cutest dog ever. So tiny!”  
“Shhh …” Instinctively, Yuuri patted Viktor’s silver crown. “You don’t need to shout.”  
“Ah, yes, yes.” Somehow he snuggled even closer and Yuuri had a hard time to fight his blush. “We’re going to visit hot springs and an ice castle. But that’s a secret, don’t tell Yakov. He would drag me back by my ear.”

Yakov concentrated on Yuuri though. “You’re training under Celestino, aren’t you?”  
“Yes, Mr. Feltsman.” He answered honestly before he could annoy him more. “I’ve told Viktor that my family owns a hot spring resort. Well …”  
“Good grief.” The Russian coach pulled out something out his jacket before he continued. “I’ve might push this idiot to far this time. I just wanted him to pull through the GPF. Really, Viktor is the oldest among the others why is he the one who always needs the most attention?”  
“Because I love you, Yakov”, Viktor blurted out; followed by another Russian curse.  
“I understand.” Yuuri nodded assuringly and shifted Viktor’s weight slightly. “You have several students to look out for and they’re sure unique and demanding in their own ways.”

“They’re like herding cats, never under control, stubborn and always biting me.” Yakov pushed two cards in Yuuri’s hand. “What Viktor needs now is a friend, someone more trustworthy than Chris who certainly sneaked in the vodka that I can smell. Wouldn't be the first time something like this happened … Well, I’m his coach, not his friend, and he’s not a rebellious teenager anymore.” Yakov cleared his throat before he continued. “That’s Viktor’s spare room key plus my personal contact information. If anything outrageous happens or if Viktor should decide to attend to Russians nationals, please let me know.”  
“You’re not stopping him?”  
“The last thing I want is a broken Viktor beyond repair.” Yakov tipped his hat before he walked away, disappearing into the crowd. “Professionally and personally.”

“Look, my lovely Yuuri”, Viktor whispered, his hot breath grazing Yuuri’s skin. “Papa gave his consent.”  
“We’re not getting married, silly.”  
“Why not? I’m sure you would be the best husband.”  
Jeez, he needed to get Viktor out of here before he spouted even more nonsense. “Viktor”, Yuuri said, voice smooth and silky. Ocean blue eyes were instantly meeting his gaze. “It’s getting late. Why don’t we go upstairs?”

A mischievous smile appeared on his lips and Yuuri had to suppress the feeling of getting eaten. “I’d love too, Yuuri. Let’s go.”

Actually, Yuuri had no idea how to get out of this dilemma without being seriously seduced by Viktor. But he wanted to help his idol, he would surely find a way.


	4. Morning Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there and sorry for the delay ... please accept my humble apology and enjoy chapter 4. ;)

4.

 

Viktor woke up with a headache of the size of Russia. His skull seemed to burn inside, his skin was too tight and with the slightest movement, his stomach was getting more upset until he felt nauseous.

Ohhh … how Viktor wished to feel something like this. To feel like crap. To hurt all over.  In reality, he just opened his eyes and stared onto foreign curtains. His head buzzed a little but he was overall fine – his alcohol tolerance should be honored with a gold medal, too.

Still, he regretted every damn drop of vodka Chris’ forced into him.

Those blue curtains deterred the early sunlight, coloring the white ceiling with an inky hue. Viktor tried to imagine waves and the ocean but he utterly failed. Instead, his fears and worries crept up to him. In his own hotel room, the curtains had been white and Viktor would always sleep with them drawn back. He liked the natural lighting, he liked watching the night sky, the airplanes passing by, the solemn stars, if he couldn’t sleep properly.

This blue curtains, hanging like a deadly threat in front of him, could only mean three things:

First: He wasn’t in his room. Once again.

Second: He stayed in some stranger’s bed. Again.

Third: He would wake up to an empty room or to a man who tried to get him out as soon as possible. Or even worse who would attach himself to him as if they’ve been destined to meet. Again. Again. Again.

He hated to repeat this pattern, still, he always returned to it.

Viktor sighed heavily and checked his attire. At least, he was still wearing clothes, so he had been too drunk to lose his mind completely. Viktor sat up silently and took the view in. His dress shirt was neatly folded at the small drawer next to him, his shoes waited for him, also neatly placed. A glass of water plus an aspirin was propped up to him – a pleasant surprise though. Up until now, nobody seemed to care enough to do something similar. But Viktor appreciated that he didn’t need to fetch tangled clothes and dash out of the room hastily.

Instead, he swung his legs out of bed and reached for the blue curtains. Viktor drew them back, white-grey winter light pouring into the room. Suddenly someone groaned behind him.

Startled, Viktor turned back to the small bed and almost yelped but he clapped a hand over his mouth.

On the outrageous small bed, right next to him, slept an exhausted-looking Yuuri Katsuki. He was sitting against the headboard, head sunken on his chest and – moreover – he was sitting on the blanket Viktor had been covered with.

Why? he wondered. Was he still dreaming?

He remembered watching Yuuri during the banquet who always seemed to talk and enjoy himself on the other side of the hall. He remembered the Russian Yuri shouting, but the little rascal always seemed to shout and then … nothing. A black hole opened up in the middle of his memories, he had wished for it but now Viktor regretted that he wasn’t able to remember.

How did he end up with Yuuri in a foreign hotel room?

Maybe he was dreaming after all.

 

* * *

 

Slowly Viktor crawled over the bed until he was an inch or two away from Yuuri. His chest rose up and down and his neck would probably hurt like hell when he woke up. He looked relaxed though. Shiny rose-colored lips opened the slightest to breathe in,  to breathe out … Viktor, torn between the need to confirm if he was dreaming and the want to never wake up, tipped his fingers against Yuuri’s arm. He tipped a bit harder, put his hand down on his sleeve and squeezed.

Yuuri’s eyes flew open. He let out a stupefied shriek as he gazed into Viktor’s eyes up close. Viktor could count Yuuri’s lashes, he could see a myriad of emotions storm through Yuuri’s mind.

“YOU REALLY CAME BACK!”, Viktor shouted suddenly before his brain could catch up to his treacherous heart and launched himself on Yuuri.

They both toppled over the edge, crashing with a couple of groans on the hard carpet floor. Limbs tangled up, Viktor almost crushed Yuuri but he didn’t care. “You came back”, he murmured, nuzzling his nose into a soft sweater Yuuri had changed into.

“Of course I did.” Viktor lifted his head in order to see how Yuuri raised his eyebrows at his remark. “This is technically my room. But tell me, how often do you want to repeat this outburst? You already did it three times yesterday.”

“Yes.”

Viktor positioned himself between Yuuri’s spread legs and towered above the Japanese man. Ignoring the implications of his actions, he started to caress Yuuri’s cheek softly, they didn’t touch otherwise but it felt oddly familiar to him. He didn’t understand why this seemed so natural to him, to seek touch he always forbade himself lately. Viktor had begun to doubt whether he would want anything again but he clearly desired to touch Yuuri. Not in an intimate way, well, not exclusively, but he needed the warmth that spread to his fingertips. Somehow.   

“Wh-what?”, that gorgeous man looked like a mess. Sleepy, tousled, beautiful.

“I said yes. Please let me look after your precious dog.”

A smile bloomed across Yuuri’s face, making the tender brown orbs sparkle and Viktor couldn’t tear off his gaze anymore. At first, Yuuri looked timid, then he opened up a bit he revealed a kind and caring soul. Too worked up with his own dilemma Viktor hadn’t watched him skate, but scoring third at the GPF where the sixth best skaters of the season competed – that couldn’t do a dime in a dozen skater. Yuuri had to be gorgeous on the ice, too.

But then something snapped.

“You don’t have to force yourself”, Yuuri suddenly stated and started to struggle under him. “I know I’m just below average and Hasetsu is just a small sea town, nothing that the Living Legend could entice or … it’s okay, you don’t have to pretend or … it was silly to think you would agree.”

“But I …” What did he do wrong? Viktor clutched Yuuri’s shoulders so hard it had to hurt the other man but he didn’t want to let go. “Why?”

Shivers and tremors rocked Yuuri’s body, as his breathing picked up and his face turned white as a sheet. Too late, Viktor realized his position, how he restrained Yuuri with force. Yuuri was panicking – he was utterly afraid of him

In an instant, he was climbing off Yuuri, giving him space.

“I’m sorry.” At loss, Viktor tried to reach out to the other skater but stopped himself.

Wheezing, Yuuri robbed across the carpeted floor and backed away into a corner. “Don’t.” Yuuri hissed, his voice strained. “Don’t touch me now.”

Gaze frantically searching for a focus, hands searching for something, maybe a phone, Yuuri’s breathing sped further up. The sight of his fear was like a punch in the gut. Viktor lost his last bit of hope then.

“I can leave.” He started to rise slowly, not wanting to startle Yuuri further.

“No. Tell me some…. to focus on”, Yuuri choked.

That’s when Viktor panicked, too. He had never been able to comfort other people. He’d even failed to understand people. How should he calm down a complete stranger?

“Why you … you … your free skate?” The syntax was broken, Yuuri shook even heavier before he buried his head between his knees. Viktor still wished to hug him, until everything was over but he stayed in his spot.

 

* * *

 

“Stammi Vicchino non te andare. Stay close and never leave.” The words rushed out of his mouth, like water in a tub after the drain being opened. “It’s an aria I’ve commissioned since I couldn’t find the right piece. Everything else had felt empty and lacking … I feel empty and lacking”, he revealed since he wanted to be honest with Yuuri. He wanted to gain Yuuri’s trust after messing up twice in the last hours. He would not squander his last chance. “Last June, I thought I would be the right way to proceed if I create a routine around my wish for a lover that would stay with me because he loves me, not the perfection everyone assumes. I poured my longing into it but the more I skated to the melody the more broken I felt. Why wasn’t there anyone this special to me? I reduced my hopes to a companion, a friend, why did everyone else had a special someone but me? The longer I portrayed that longing the lonelier I felt. I intended to motivate me with the song but in the end, it guaranteed my downfall. I couldn’t concentrate on the music and the elements right after I lost Makka. It seemed pointless to me since I would never attain someone like that. Wishful thinking on my part that somehow would see the routine and get the message… Yuuri?”

Viktor swallowed the rest of his explanation as a pair of molten chocolate eyes, blown wide by surprise met his gaze.

“Why are you crying?”, Yuuri rasped.

Startled, Viktor touched his cheek and found a trail of fresh, hot tears. He wiped them away quickly, a reaction buried deep inside his muscle memory. He was not allowed to cry in company, no one should ever see the cracks hidden under his perfectly crafted persona.

But then he tore away his hands and let the tears flow.

“Can I touch you now?”, he asked quietly.

Yuuri nodded hesitatingly. At least, his breathing seemed more elaborate now and a pink dust of embarrassment covered his cheeks.

Viktor closed in slowly this time and intertwined their fingers until their formed a tight lock. Viktor eased into the warmth and Yuuri relaxed with a soft sigh.

“I have bad anxiety. The stress plus the up and downs of the last hours might have triggered … I …” Yuuri tried to explain although he sounded exhausted. “This was just a mild panic attack I could barely breathe it away but sometimes I just stop functioning for hours. Competitions make it harder, the pressure to perform right but I hate my prescriptions which knock me out completely for days. And having dealt with several bouts of depression I could easily recognize your own. That’s why I’ve followed you and knocked on your bathroom stall. My luck, I always get bored of being depressed in the long run but I feared you would lack such a switch and drown even further after losing your dog.”

Viktor listened intently before he searched for an appropriate reply. “I’m not depressed. I’m …” _Afraid. Afraid that nobody cares for me unconditionally. I’m lonely. So lonely. I’m not perfect. I wonder if I’m broken beyond repair._

Viktor tried an encouraging smile but it wavered between seconds. So many people in his life accused him of being selfish. He was allowed and able to commission music. He had always gotten the best rink times in order to train alone. He always claimed the top spot without having so much as a sweat although he honestly trained harder than any other skater he knew. But Viktor swallowed his feelings, his worries, his doubts, not allowed to be selfish he distanced himself even more. Wishing that he would not be a burden that no one would envy him anymore or accuse him or … Somehow, he had always charmed himself out of everything with a smile.

Until he was too tired to smile anymore.

Yuuri, gorgeous, caring, wonderful Yuuri watched him with patience as Viktor gathered his tumbled thoughts.

Could he dare to be selfish with Yuuri?

“Will you come with me?”, Viktor asked, his gazed turned downwards. He focused on their intertwined fingers, Yuuri was still anchoring him.

“What?”

“To Hasez-… to your hometown?”

“I can’t, Viktor, I don’t know how to pay for a plane ticket on such short notice. Airfares right before Christmas are horrible.”

This wasn’t an outright rejection, was it? “But you don’t have classes?” Despite all the uproar inside of him, Viktor was proud that he remembered Yuuri being a student of an American college. Detroit!, he thought. It felt so good to finally show interest in someone again.

“No not until the first week of January”, Yuuri admitted. “I’ve turned in everything before the GPF so that it would not stress me out further.”

Viktor added ‘smart’ to a hopefully never-ending list of Yuuri’s traits before he forced himself to look up again.

“Come with me, please.” He repeated. Fresh tears were rushing again over his cheeks. Why couldn’t he stop crying? “Introduce me to your family, help me get settled down with your little pup and show me around. Please, I don’t want to feel like I’m misplaced somewhere else, like a tool that’s not useful anymore.”

 

* * *

 

Startled by the confession, the utmost loneliness, Yuuri drew Viktor into a light hug.

With a sigh, Viktor almost melted into Yuuri’s arms. No one had hugged him since an eternity. He didn’t blame Yakov though, his coach had never been a touchy person. But everyone else just brushed his loss aside, offering him meaningless condolences and false smiles. Yes, he admitted having drawn a line between himself and the rest of the Russian team but he had not been able to overcome this gap. And no one tried to do it from their side either.

Was it selfish to wish to be embraced by a person who really meant it?, Viktor wondered. Not those short hugs Viktor always received from fans, sponsors or other competitors. He wanted to be held dear. Just like Makka had done when he arrived home. She always had tackled him to the ground and licked his face until he had been covered in dog drool.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about the ticket”, he almost sobbed into Yuuri’s soft sweater. “I’ll buy you one to Japan and another back to Detroit. Or wherever to.” He had more money on his hand than he could spend.

“Why?”

“You’re the only one who doesn’t tell me to get myself together and move on”, he admitted. Yuuri seemed to care. He was the only one who noticed Viktor’s major break-down. He had stayed although Viktor acted like an ass.

“It’s okay to grieve, to feel sad or … anxious.” Yuuri whispered into his silver locks. “Bottling emotions up leads nowhere, certainly not forward. You’re talking to a master in bottling up. It’s like I’ve got the biggest collection of emotion suppressing bottles ever.”

 _He smells so nice_. _Like ocean and pine wood_ , Viktor thought, his mind slowly drifting away. He nuzzled deeper into Yuuri’s small frame, enjoying the warmth. Yet, he really seemed to be broken beyond repair since he clung himself to a stranger. But Yuuri’s embrace felt so good. His touch was careful and lovingly, it felt like it could smooth out all the scratches, holes and punches Viktor had suffered over the years.

 

* * *

 

Ninety-nine percent of Yuuri’s being just wanted to scream out his overwhelming joy. He. Was. Hugging. Viktor. Nikiforov. He! Was! Talking! To! Viktor! As! If! They! Knew! Each! Other! Since! Forever! It had taken almost a month to open up to Phichit and they were roommates, but Viktor’s honesty just pushed away all the inhibitions Yuuri should have held onto.

One percent was clearly locked away in the x-rated corner of his mind.

Yuuri stayed tackled into a corner although his back hurt although his legs got numb under Viktor’s weight. He’d never thought about the possibility that Viktor would cry himself to sleep while snuggling into Yuuri’s embrace. The odds of being struck by a lightning had to be higher – Yuuri chuckled lightly. He always had to work the hardest to reach his goals, maybe karma was finally paying him back for his efforts.

Emotionally drained and worn out Viktor leaned heavily on him, still, Yuuri did not jostle the Russian man and his life-long idol. Honestly, he had always dreamed of meeting Viktor and competing against him. He had fallen for his figure skating and artistic expertise years and years ago. But now he could feel the strong arms encircling his waist, he could feel the hot breath tingling through his sweater and he could feel the silky tresses when he stroked through Viktor’s silver locks.

Yuuri had never been a person who sought touch or needed a physical relationship. That’s why he was equally astonished and frightened how easily he accepted Viktor’s presence. Something had clicked between them at the banquet – something Yuuri didn’t dare to think about further. But it took half an hour before his sped up pulse returned to a normal rate and he formed a thought that did not equal cooing how beautiful Viktor looked up close.

Except for Vic-chan Yuuri had never broken any rules intentionally. But last night he had accepted Viktor’s spare key and set a plan into motion that got bigger and more important with every passing hour. He had called Minako in order to fetch Viktor’s stuff and his own before swapping rooms with his old ballet teacher. For certain, half of the banquet guest had seen him leave with Viktor but he would not allow that some cheesy reporter insulted Viktor’s reputation further by camping on Viktor’s hotel floor. And after Babicheva’s and Plisetsky’s behavior he hadn’t been too keen to meet those two either.

Finally set up in Minako’s room his ballet teacher confirmed her flight back to Japan and went back to Yuuri’s own room where Vic-chan awaited her. The bickering of his mentor hadn’t stopped for a second since drunken Viktor stayed glued to him during the whole ordeal. Nevertheless, it had been worth it. No one knocked on Minako’s door so far or tried to break in to get a glimpse of the Living Legend.

Thanks to his flexibility Yuuri had attained through two decades of ballet he somehow managed to get a hold on his phone. He made some calls while Viktor slept peacefully in his arms. He called home, having a few whispered conversations at the same time with his parents, Mari and the regulars of the inn. He needed to re-organize Viktor’s stay and his own training plans and travel to Japanese Nationals in barely eleven days, on 27th December. The early morning light was colored with honey as time passed and the first signs of citizen mingled into the silence. Hotel guests were walking down the corridor, an angry car horn blasted, seagulls were shrieking in the distance.  

Viktor stirred as Yuuri talked to Celestino over the phone, recognizing the English for sure. “ … yes, there’s a family emergency I have to attend. Yes, I’ll compete at nationals, but I won’t be traveling to Detroit for now. How about we video chat about my training regiment? I could ask the owners of my home rink to record me. Yes? Thank you, coach.”

Tired ocean blue eyes blinked at him owlishly as Yuuri told Viktor how far he proceeded during his nap. “I would have started looking for flights but the free hotel wifi is slowed down during the competition and …” To his own surprise, Yuuri’s hold on Viktor tightened as the man gathered his bearings. “And I wasn’t sure whether you wanted to travel to St. Petersburg first. You certainly wish to arrange a funeral for Makkachin, don’t you?”

Viktor mumbled an adorable “Thank you” and something about being thoughtful before he finally extracted himself from Yuuri. He tried to smooth his silver bangs but stopped mid-way, eliciting an almost shy smile. The unspoken question what happened between them hung in the air but for now, Yuuri pushed it aside. He would stay for a few days at Viktor’s side, he would be thankful and appreciate the chance to meet Viktor off the ice. And that’s it. The odds somehow turned in his favor, he wouldn’t get greedy now.

Yuuri focused on Mr. Feltsman’s words  _What Viktor needs now is a friend, someone more trustworthy_ – he could deal with being a friend. He could be a good friend, listen to him, help him, comfort him and then release Viktor back into the glittering world of Russia’s best figure skater.

Every minute would be worth it.

“When does the flight of the Russian team leave?”, Yuuri asked, ignoring the loss of warmth and his treacherous heart whining. He was such a wimp, why didn’t he have the courage to act on the one percent that he kept hidden in the deepest corner of his mind.

“This afternoon.”

Yuuri nodded. “Can we travel to St. Petersburg via train?”

“That would take hours.” Viktor looked dumbfounded. “No one travels via train from Sochi to St. Petersburg.”

Triumphantly, Yuuri smirked. He had already researched so far but needed Viktor to confirm his theory. “That means probably zero reporters. Perfect. This way we can let you disappear without leaving an obvious trace. You should shut down your phone, too, the moment you don’t need it anymore.”

“It already is.”

“Good.” Yuuri offered him a hand before he pulled them upwards. “It still sounds crazy to me but it might work to get you out of the spotlight for once.”

 

* * *

  

Suddenly a bit shy but still determined Yuuri offered Viktor a hand in order to pull them both upwards. Without hesitating, he helped Viktor up to his feet and something shifted between them during the movement. Yuuri did not drag or push him forcefully into a direction. He did not decide over his head, he gently nudged him toward the bed before he started rummaging through his own suitcase.

He whisked Viktor off his feet, his presence was like a spell, he was still mourning, missing Makka, but he was calmer now. Viktor was not worrying or completely afraid anymore how to endure another season. He was not completely empty and lifeless anymore. He had something like a plan, the tiniest part of a goal was forming inside his mind. Wishful thinking but Viktor had always been a hopeless romantic guy.

Still confused over the loss, the chaos, his emotional breakdown and the events of the last 24 hours Viktor would realize a few days later when Yuuri lead him up to the stairs of Katsuki-Yutopia, calling out a joyful “Tadaima!” ( which was answered with an even louder, more joyful “Okaeri!” of his mother), that Viktor was something else, too:

He was totally smitten with Yuuri Katsuki. 


	5. Together Into Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more like a transition between the first part of the story ( Sochi ) and the second ( Japanese nationals ).  
> I'm still not fully satisfied with it but I can't put my finger on why I'm feeling like this ... 
> 
> Nevertheless, enjoy how Yuuri entangles himself further with his most precious figure skater.

 

The disappearance of the great Viktor Nikiforov shook the figure skating world.

After the GPF the press got some pictures how the Russian team journeyed back to St. Petersburg but everyone already had lost track of Viktor then. Fellow athletes and sponsors were telling that he attended the banquet but nothing leaked out of this mysterious event: What happens at a banquet stays at a banquet. (Except the figure skater himself uploaded it to social media.)

But even Viktor’s beloved and frequently updated Instagram account was deadly silent.

At first, there were rumors that his coach Yakov Feltsmann distracted intentionally the journalists, neither giving them interviews nor letting them enter the skating facility. In truth, it had been Yuuri who argued that the moment Viktor joined the other skaters disappearing would only be harder. It was easy for him to decide though, sitting in Viktor’s bedroom while sorting clothes which were fitting for a longer stay in Hasetsu. Or quietly packing away Makkachin’s toys and leftover food.

They didn’t communicate much after leaving the hotel in Sochi. Yuuri had no idea how to comfort Viktor with words as they organized his stay in Japan and Makka’s incineration at the same time. Instead, Viktor was the one who did most of the talking; telling stories about his beloved dog, showing pictures and just expecting that Yuuri would listen to him.

He noticed Viktor’s uneasiness though. On the one hand, it was hard to deal with the loss of Makkachin. On the other hand, Viktor revealed during their quick trip to his favorite take-out-place that he still feared of being alone again. That one wrong step would lead to Yuuri running away.

“And where should I run to?”, he asked him bewildered as he looked at the display of a crazy fusion of Thai and Mexican food. “I’m not conversational in Russian, I can’t read a thing here, plus I’m a poor scholar student who’s broke all the time. If I run, I’ll be stuck here.”

At last, Viktor understood his sarcasm and bought an extra huge pile of Thai curry burritos since the poor scholar student shouldn’t starve during his stay.

Yuuri only regretted not having the chance to make a real sight-seeing trip to all these spots busy with people. The short walks through the piles of snow left him freezing and he didn’t want to take the risk of Viktor getting caught by fans. But who wouldn’t mind staying at his idol’s guest room? Who would mind watching his idol sipping tea with jam while gazing dreamily out of his floor-to-ceiling-windows? Who would mind showing an amazed Viktor how to build favorite Japanese snow figurines like Pokémons or Totoros? 

Yuuri certainly didn’t.

 

* * *

 

Soon they sneaked out of the city in the middle of the night to catch their plane that would first stop in Incheon, Seoul, and then bring them to Fukuoka. As Yuuri tried to calm down the Nishigoris who collected them in the morning of the next day and swore everyone to secrecy while helping Viktor settle in at the Onsen, the world was turned upside down:

  
Where did the skating legend go?

Why wasn’t he answering any calls?

Why hasn’t anyone seen him? Even at his training facility although Russian nationals were creeping nearer?

Did something happen to him? Was he even abducted or worse? Was the police already working on the kidnapping case?

Especially the internet started to cook up the most ridiculous theories although Yuuri liked all the rumors of the Russian mafia most.  First and foremost, Phichit, as one of the most active figure skaters on SNS, was at the forefront of those who were worried and scared. He even called Yuuri to ask how his family emergency was going on and if he was feeling well.

“You practically devoted your life to being the biggest Viktor fanboy on earth”, his friend and roommate stated. “I feared you would organize a search party on your own.”

Yuuri laughed at that. Thank God, he his phone wasn’t put on speaker. „I’m not worried at all.“

„You – WHAT? Have you watched the news? It’s four days, five days in Japan! Fourve! Crime series taught us that the lead turns could after two days, Yuuri. It’s like the earth has swallowed him up. Yuuri, are you lying to me because you’re worried sick? Did you sleep properly? Are you eating?”

“Seven hours solid and Phichit, you tasted my mom’s cooking before. How can I refuse my katsudon? I’ve won bronze after all.” Yuuri joked light-heartedly while petting Vic-chan which was curled up on his lap. “Maybe Viktor’s somewhere with a bad connection? Or has his phone turned off?”

„Celebrities aren’t allowed to turn their phone off. Imagine Michelle Tang wouldn’t post his breakfast yoga routines anymore, I wouldn’t know how to start my day. I would be lost, confused and starving.”

In the background, Viktor cheered when the Fukuoka Hawks brutally slaughtered the Hanshin Tigers at a baseball match. Half of the male patrons were clad in the team’s colors, someone even put a cap of the team on Viktor’s silver bangs. Yuuri never got the knack of baseball but it seemed to be fun watching as a group.

 “He’ll come back if he wants to” was his reply to Phichit although everyone expected a major breakdown from him.

 

* * *

  
Several days after Viktor’s loss at the GPF and sudden disappearance he was still the hot topic of every sports news channel. One half of the media argued that Viktor loved surprises; he would definitely come back with a bigger surprise than ever. The other half, the more nasty type, proclaimed that he wasn’t used being defeating anymore – that the fatal outcome of Sochi broke his neck. That he was done for. That he finally went into retirement and wasn’t brave enough to make an official statement.

Yuuri caught Viktor reading those news one evening and simply shut down his laptop before ushering him out to help in the ryokan’s kitchen. Having anxiety attacks schooled him to ignore bad press. Maybe he wasn’t very fond of Celestino anymore but he learned from him that there would be always bad press – whether he did well or worse. Someone would always try to write some dirt on him.  
Imagine how bad it must be if you are Viktor Nikiforov himself?  
The rules they set were simple: During Yuuri’s stay and maybe even further figure skating was banned. They went to the rink but just for fun, playing with the triplets and letting Yuuko show off Yuuri’s accomplishments. Aside from that, they were just Viktor and Yuuri. (Expect in the awkward moment Viktor discovered the huge, lifelong collection of his own merchandise. And the posters. Especially the posters.)

Instead of being figure skaters Yuuri showed Viktor around a snowed-in Hasetsu and explained the everyday life at the onsen to him. The news of the beautiful foreigner spread through the city but after declaring Viktor as one of Yuuri’s college friends no one bothered anymore when those two wandered over the snow-laden bridges, skidded over to the ninja castle or climbed the icy path to an almost frozen waterfall. Vic-chan always happily jumping around them and sometimes buried nose-deep into the snow.

“Yuuri!”, he started to love how Viktor called his name so casually. “Would you show me how to …” – the possibilities were endless. With childlike joy and vigor, Viktor soon followed Yuuri like a shadow begging with a heart-shaped smile to learn everything he set his gaze onto. He was making more mess then mastering new skills, but neither Yuuri nor his family did mind. Despite the guests and regulars of the onsen suddenly became lively when Viktor failed to set the breakfast table with the dozens of different bowls and plates. Or when he tried to learn Japanese from some old men who utterly ridiculed him. Viktor’s first broken sentences actually were ‘Yes, I’m here to marry into the family. Thank you for having me’ which caused Yuuri to stop functioning for a minute or two and Mari roar with laughter.

Yuuri was glad to help Viktor out; secretly he enjoyed every invading of personal space Viktor initiated. Covered under the mask of the Living Legend of Figure Skating Yuuri discovered so much more: sleepyhead Viktor, Viktor who struggled to eat with chopsticks, cooing Viktor when their poodle started to react to his Japanese commands, whining Viktor who almost fell asleep in the onsen and protested as Yuuri coaxed him out of the water, playful Viktor who engaged some children from the neighborhood to a snowball fight.

 

* * *

 

During a depression Yuuri usually buried himself deep into his room, sometimes staying there for days. Viktor reacted differently. The change of scenery provoked curiosity and a never-ending energy that sometimes exhausted Yuuri emotionally. But he would never say to Viktor that he was too loud, too boisterous or too strenuous. He wished Viktor would always stay like this. Loud and carefree and filling the onsen more and more with the laughter he elicited.

Yuuri only had to deal with one major problem: Japanese nationals were getting closer each day and he didn’t want to bother Viktor with his training.

That’s why he started to make sure that Viktor was well-occupied when he sneaked out to the rink or even waited until he went to bed before he jogged over to the ice castle and unlocked the rink in the middle of the night. Which soon turned out to be impossible, too, since Viktor started knocking on Yuuri’s door asking for a sleepover.

The first night Yuuri pretended to be asleep blaming it on the jet lag, before slipping out to train. The second night Yuuri ordered Vic-chan to follow Viktor and both of them turned in early for once but Yuuri caught the slightly sad expression on the other man.

“Yuuri, are you still awake?” Again, Viktor knocked softly on his door. “Do you want to have a sleepover? We could tell stories and get to know each other better, don’t worry I’m not into braiding hair but maybe I’ll don you a face mask or …” Yuuri torn between wanting to join and worrying to spoil their budding friendship sat frozen on his bed. “Well, maybe you’re already sleeping. Good night, Yuuri.”

“Wait, we’ve got more space in your room”, the words slipped over his tongue and his hands already grabbed his comforter before he realized his decision. Somehow he was standing in the middle of the hallway and was being guided by Viktor to his room.

He would crash and burn at Nationals, he would come in last if he didn’t mend the last flaws of his routine, still, Yuuri didn’t hesitate. He didn’t mind at all as long he was able to wake up next to Viktor or even with Viktor on top of him. Warm and soft Viktor who rolled over him in his sleep and cuddled Yuuri like the comfiest cushion. He didn’t mind as long he could stroke through silky silver bangs.

It was getting extremely dangerous for Yuuri’s heart but he couldn’t stop himself from being drawn to Viktor.

Until Viktor started to follow him even to his secret training.

 

* * *

 

“That was awful”, Yuuko commented as Yuuri flopped against the barriers.

“Thanks”, he mumbled. “How I like honest critique …”

“What’s bothering you? Is Viktor giving you a hard time?”, she asked bewildered. “Just one word and I will drill him.”

“You would faint before. I’m the biggest fanboy in the whole world, but you are the greatest Viktor fangirl in this universe.”

She sniggered evilly. “Just one word and I let Takeshi drill him but rescue him before it goes out of hand!”

Yuuri smiled faintly. It was good to be home again. Phichit was a good friend and he could endure the life at the dorm, running between training, part-time-jobs, and classes – but Yuuko and Takeshi grew up with him. They had seen all his bests and lows, especially the lows since he had always trained at Ice Castle, but never left. Maybe he wasn’t the fondest of Takeshi but he could always count on him.

Still, his practice had gone awful. He missed his jumps, he seemed always one step ahead of the music or forgot to do connect the combinations … Even his step sequences, his best part, felt stiff today. Scratch that. Viktor woke him up at 6 am in the morning and now at 8 pm in the evening, he was feeling their sight-seeing tour in every bone. Plus, he was stressed from suppressing his feelings. He couldn’t concentrate because of his fatigue. His mind was full of Viktor. Silly Viktor, laughing Viktor, Viktor throwing snowballs at him before hiding behind the next bench, Viktor …

Yuuri was already addicted to Viktor’s presence and he feared the day he had to leave for Japanese nationals and Detroit soon after.

Something deep within would break then, probably his heart. 

“Yuuko-chan”, Yuuri asked, suddenly having the brightest idea. „Do you have a moment? I wanted to show you something the moment I returned.”

His oldest friend lit up at the statement. “The triplets are helping Takeshi, so yes, please show off the hickeys, Viktor surely marked you with.”

Groaning, Yuuri buried his head in his hands. “There are no hickeys! We are friends.”

“Sure, sure.”

Yuuri sent her a death glare, before ordering her to play a certain song. “For real?”, she almost shrieked in excitement. “Please, Yuuri, show me!”

Yuuri bowed to her overly dramatic before he glided into the center of the rink and took position. On cue, the first chords a sad Italian aria strung …

 

* * *

 

Yuuri emerged with the music and let his mind wander while he skated his heart out. All this wanting, longing, pining, wishful thinking flooded him, he wished Viktor’s stay would be more than a temporary arrangement. Oh, how he wished to interact with Viktor on a daily basis, even as friends. To see his smile, to see his eyes radiating from joy, to experience how Viktor always sought his gaze as soon as Yuuri entered the same room.

He let his imagination run wild and flowed with the music, ignoring his surroundings. The grey-blue lines that equaled an empty Ice castle at night as he jumped and spun and danced before he was exploding from bottling up any more emotions.

 _Never leave me_. He wanted too much, he couldn’t voice this request, it wasn’t possible, but he wanted, wanted, wanted. _Never leave me._

It was frightening how much he already liked the real Viktor after a couple of days. Although he thought he liked his media persona more than half of his life.

The last chords strung, Yuuri shifted into his final pose and was almost deafened by Yuuko screaming: “Yuuri! That was incredible! Oh my god! I’ve never seen you skate like this!”

Well … he never felt anything similar like he did now.

As countless times before Yuuri glided to the barriers and took his glasses from Yuuko’s outstretched hands. The blurry shapes sharpened, his friend’s features were getting more clear instantly but also a silver appeared at the brink of his vision.

Startled, Yuuri lost his balance and crashed butt-first onto the ice. “Viktor!”, he stammered. “How long have you been here? Have you … have you seen …?”

“Actually”, Yuuko drawled on, “he was watching you practice like ten minutes after you started. I promised not to tell anything but he showed up at the bleachers and …”

Yuuri didn’t get the rest of her ramblings. Instead, he scrambled to his feet and raced down the ice until he crashed into the barrier right before Viktor. Luckily, he didn’t hit him directly or even knock him out with the impact – but Yuuri took his hands gently and pried them from Viktor’s face revealing a stream of fresh tears. Fuck. He only realized that he had played the song that caused Viktor’s breakdown at max volume.

Against better judgment, Yuuri drew Viktor in a hug, placing his head on his collarbone and enveloped him with his arms. “Sorry, Viktor! I am so sorry, I didn’t want to trigger you. I didn’t know you were watching. Sorry, I probably butchered your routine! I was just for fun so I downgraded the jumps to triples, I mean, I wouldn’t even dream of doing a quad flip and … ”

Grasping for air, Viktor clutched onto Yuuri and didn’t reply a single word.

“Was I that bad?”, Yuuri huffed before turning to Yuuko. “I’ve trained it since I’ve seen the routine at Trophee de France in September and ...”

Silently, Yuuko shook his head and showed him a thumb up.

 

* * *

 

“You did great”, Viktor whispered as Yuuri waved his fingers through silver locks. He seemed calmer now but Yuuri wouldn’t let go yet.

“Did I? Really?”

“Yes.” Every so slowly Viktor drew back and tried to show Yuuri a watery smile. “You did really, really great. It’s like I’ve seen the routine for the first time. You portrayed in a way I’ve never thought off … my version seems so gloomy and despairing. Yes, you downgraded the jumps, but your moves were overflowing with longing, it broke my heart that you are seeking something so desperately … It’s like you understood the essential part of the story I wanted to portrait better than me.”

A deep red blush crept over Yuuri’s face, probably his whole body. Did someone record this? Maybe? Please. He wouldn’t dare to ask Viktor to repeat it …

“Who were you thinking about?”, Viktor inquired; always full of curiosity.

 _You. You. You._ _It’s always been you._

“Um …” He needed a white lie. Fast! “Well, um … Katsudon. My mother’s Katsudon. I’ll only get when I win or place at the podium at the greatest event and … yes. Kat-katsudon.”

Disbelievingly Viktor raised an eyebrow at Yuuri’s answer and tried to stare him into the ground as if this would reveal the truth. But it’s Yuuko’s roaring laughter that startled them both.

“He would rather bite his tongue off than answering”, she stated loudly, “because Yuuri …”

“YUUKO!” He was desperate; he almost glided over and stuffed her mouth with the sweaty towel he used during training. This was neither the right time nor the right place to confess something so fragile like Yuuri’s blooming infatuation for Viktor.

Then, he noticed the triplets. “Lutz! Axel! Loop! Give me that phone!”

“But Uncle Yuuri”, they whined. “You said it was okay to record you.”

“Yes. If you record it with my phone so I can send it to Celestino and delete it afterward.”

“But! It would be good for your fans and the ice castle if we upload it. It’s content marketing.”

Viktor chimed in, not getting the Japanese part of the conversation. “What’s the argument about?”

“Listen.” Yuuri put on his skate guards and crouched in front of them. “You can upload the video, but under two conditions.”

The triplets nodded eagerly.

“First: You cut out every part were Viktor is seen clearly or where he is heard clearly. Second: You blur the background. I know you’re able to do it so that no one can recognize Viktor, okay? He’s here on a secret vacation so no one should know about it.”

Suddenly the triplets swarmed Viktor. “We have conditions, too”, they state in heavily accented English. “Can we have an interview for our channel later?” - “Can we record Uncle Viktor when he’s not a secret anymore?” - “Can we skate with Uncle Viktor?” - and all three of them shouted: “Can we have autographs NOW?”

Yuuri quickly translated the first part, then, Viktor agreed eagerly. “Sure, you three. And I would love to skate with you.”

Magically, the triplets pulled up skates in the right size two seconds later and ushered ‘uncle Viktor’ to lace them immediately.

Yuuri and Yuuko stayed behind, watching the sudden chaos. “The girls are really happy but I think you have to carry him home after they’re done with him. They seem never to be tired lately.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time...” Yuuri sighed.

Yuuko’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Yuuri!” She giggles like a school girl. “Do tell me more about carrying Viktor. ”

“We aren’t like this!”

“Then tell me what you are exactly?”

Yuuri stepped onto the ice instead. “I need to go through my routine.”

The cheerful laughter of his childhood friend followed him though ...

 

* * *

 

Several hours and around 2,000,000 views on a certain skating video later Phichit leaned back on his desk chair at the dorms. Yuuri missed his life-long idol this much, he even re-enacted Viktor’s routine in a remarkably perfect way. It worked even better with the given context of Viktor’s sudden disappearance. And now, the whole world could see what an outstanding skater his best friend was.

Phichit grabbed his phone in order to upload a video on Instagram that would only contain his gushing and squealing about Yuuri’s attempt on Stammi Vicino.

Viktor may have disappeared but at last Phichit’s world was alright again.

 

* * *

 

In the end, Viktor stayed with Yuuri at the rink and helped him smooth his program. He was diligent, required him to speed up, to form more difficult sequences, to switch jumps – the second night Yuuri thought he was creating a new program although the same music blasted through the speakers at the rink.

Still, he liked the progress.

It was easier to concentrate, to flow through the elements and connect with the story.

Usually, Yuuri would have panicked at the thought of changing his programs days before an upcoming event. But somehow Viktor encouraged him to do exactly that.

“That was beautiful!” Viktor even clapped as Yuuri reached his final position of the last training before he needed to leave to Tokio.

“You think so?”, Yuuri asked sheepishly, skating over to Viktor.

“You really improved. I could watch you all day how you tell a story with your movements.”

Yuuri blushed at that. “Thank you. You helped me a lot. I don’t know how …”

Viktor stopped him with the wave of his hand. “I just tried to figure out what kind of skater you are.”

“And what kind of skater am I?”

“Hard-working, talented and full of emotion… - the whole stadium will fall in love with you, Yuuri, if they see you dancing on the ice.”

 _I just need one person to fall in love with me_ , Yuuri’s treacherous brain answered but he stayed silent.

 

* * *

 

Saying goodbye to Viktor before leaving to nationals and later on returning to Detroit was the hardest thing Yuuri had to accomplish in years. He was used to traveling, he had conquered homesickness but the moment he stood frozen before the waiting taxi, hearing the cheers and well-wished of his family and some of his fans in Hasetsu – Yuuri wished he could stay. Wished he could just escape his normal life, all the obligations of being an adult and stay together with Viktor.

“We will be cheering for you!”, his mother promised. The tears in her eyes were prominent but she never said goodbye to him without those. His father padded him on the back, Mari joked about having high expectations after Sochi and then Yuuri’s gaze shifted to Viktor who was carrying Vic-chan in his arms.

The rest of the family scurried inside as Viktor searched for the right words.

“The last days have been nice.” Yuuri tried to sound sincere but his smile wavered. “I’ll do my best with the modified programs.”

“You sure will. I’ll cheer as loud as I can.” Viktor took his hand and press a light kiss on the skin. “I don’t know how to thank you, Yuuri.”

_Repeat that kiss a little bit higher. Repeat again._

“Take care and don’t burden yourself, don’t get caught.” Somehow Yuuri managed to shut his heart out. Instead, he patted Vic-chan on the head. “Call from time to time and tell me how Vic-chan is doing?”

“I promise.”

Yuuri didn’t draw away and Viktor didn’t let go of him. They stood there several minutes before the taxi driver got impatient.

His feelings were caught right at the top of his tongue but it was too surreal to express them. The whole vacation seemed like a dream to him. He still waited to wake up from this wonderful dream, all alone in his hotel room in Sochi.

But he wouldn’t admit anything that would be a burden to Viktor. That would make Viktor feel obligated or make him feel bad.

That’s why he placed himself in the taxi seat with a heavy smile and waved to Viktor who still stood outside of the ryokan. Snowflakes framing like the winter wonder he certainly was.  

Yuuri didn’t expect to see Viktor again only three days later.


	6. Challenges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello ... I've never intended to neglect this story for all those months. I'm terribly sorry! m__O__m  
> My excuse: Voltron Legendary Defender happened.  
> I've fallen in love during the six seasons from April to June and woah ... it's amazing. For those who doesn't know the series: It makes you feel like the ending of episode 7 of YOI, but you can scream through whole seasons. ( Or read my fanfiction here on AO3 .. )  
> Anyway, I'm starting to finish this story now, you've waited long enough.
> 
> Let the pining and the thirst begin. ;)

Yuuri thought distance would help to stop his constant thoughts about Viktor.

It didn't.

Honestly, all he wanted was to drive back to the onsen. Instead, he boarded his plane at Fukuoka which would bring him to Tokyo. Celestino who had a hard time reading Japanese - edit: who couldn't read it at all - let Yuuri arrive on his own, only assured him to check them in at their hotel beforehand. Being used to competitions, Yuuri didn't mind to travel alone, he even considered faking a delay in order to make a detour into his favorite shopping district.

His arrival varied a lot from his plans. He was delayed at Fukuoka, thoughts glued to his little hometown. Since nationals were about to begin, Japanese sports news still reported about Victor's disappearance, so Yuuri was greeted with Viktor's face the moment he stepped onto Narita airport. He tried to wander a bit through his favorite streets, arcades and little shops, easily accessible via train to the arena, but all he could think of was Viktor. Probably Viktor would have loved exploring the colorful displays. He would have tried the small stalls which offered traditional Japanese food street. He would have bought that oversized dog sweater and would have look amazingly cute in it and ...

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Yuuri tried to concentrate on the displays instead, every inch of the streets was covered in Christmas decorations. Despite being a Christian tradition Japanese stores and people liked to use glitter and lights and Christmas trees and cute angels handing out restaurant flyers. Although there was no snow at this time of the year, Yuuri wandered through an artificial winter wonderland. He bought some Japanese sweets – Christmas edition – for Phichit as a start of term gift and was roped in with a guy wear a silly Christmas elf kigurumi. He tried to feel the spirit, the warmth, to joy everyone was eliciting, but …

… Yuuri just felt cold and oh so alone. This was definitely not like he wanted his last hours to play out before business as usual begun.

To sum it up - Yuuri suffered from a special case of homesickness he never anticipated to get. "He'll be back at Russia if you return in a few months, it's not worth hurting over something that was just a fickle little dream", he tried to reassure himself, that he would never ever see this private, cheerful Viktor again. The next time they would meet as competitors. Next season, next year, ... maybe he would offer an autograph to Yuuri when he’d already have forgotten their little adventure.

Sadly, Viktor had been too drunk to remember their rushed elevator kiss he shared with Yuuri at their hotel in Sochi.

And if he did remember, it did not mean the same for him.

 

* * *

 

To Yuuri's surprise, Phichit tagged along with Celestino, using the extra ticket from Detroit Yuuri didn't need before he would spend a few days back at home in Thailand. He never expected his roommate and best friend to sit in Celestino's room, playing with his phone and looking up with a grin, when Yuuri entered.

"Yuuri!" He was welcomed with a warm hug. "How are you? Did your family emergency turn out well?"

"Um ... yes?" Phichit would never pry if Yuuri did not want to share stories of his hometown but the question only brought him back to Viktor.

"I'm here to cheer for you!" Phichit waved an invisible flag. "Thought you might be still down since Viktor has yet to be found."

Viktor. Viktor. Viktor.

The more he tried to forget about the Russian figure skater, the harder it got. Everywhere he turned Yuuri stumbled over his idol and his thoughts automatically went back home. Maybe Viktor was taking a soak right now? Or he was playing with Vic-chan? Picturing them clearly didn’t help to move on, that's why he decided to concentrate on his coach and his best friend. It was already late, a light dinner was on their schedule next, unpacking, checking on the gear and the costumes ... Celestino booked a training session late in the evening and an additional one early on Friday. The event would start the day after, but all the paperwork, the registration was already done, nothing to kill time and inappropriate thoughts with.

To his surprise, Yuuri rejected the training session and passed it on to Phichit. Watching his friend’s new routine ideas distracted him more than presenting his new adjustments. Up until now, it had been his and Viktor's secret work, he wanted to keep it that way for a few more hours.

He listened to Celestino's overall game-plan, he spent time with Phichit, briefly messaged home, went to bed not too late - all these processes were familiar, he had done those for a hundred times already. Still, he felt alone. Was it possible to miss someone that dearly after a few days? Viktor had been a constant, a smiling face to turn to, a laughter in the room, only a short call away, sleeping right next to him, gliding over the same ice as Yuuri ...

He loved his family, but aside from his parents, Mari and Minako-sensei there had never been a special someone in his life, that focused on Yuuri the moment he entered a scene. Especially in a way neither of his family members did. Viktor's eyes always seemed to light up.

Yuuri tried so hard to quench the silent connection, to snap the string that seemed to vibrate between the two of them - instead he felt this pull towards Viktor stronger than ever before. The real Viktor, not the idol he fantasized about for years and years. 

 

* * *

 

A little bit tired and worn out, Yuuri stepped onto the ice that particular Friday morning and presented his newly evolved routine.

All his thoughts about Viktor left him like a rush, on the ice he was still connected to his Russian idol. The music started to play and Yuuri glided through the program without effort. His theme was _challenges_ , at first, he tried to depict the challenges he lived through in America, the challenges he was facing with every year within the figure skating circus. How to pick up himself after failures, how to motivate himself – Yuuri could tell a story or two about it. Together with Viktor, they developed a new layer of depth though. Challenges didn’t always mean to reach something, to fight bitterly to attain their goals and never give up. The real challenge was to stay away, to leave even if you longed to stay, to keep the status quote.

Change was a real challenge, something you only achieved if you moved forward.

 _I’m moving forward. Forward to the next day. And the next._ After he portrayed the ups and downs of challenges, of fighting, winning and giving up for a higher purpose, Yuuri glided into a stop facing Celestino and his best friend.

Phichit was actually clapping and cheering like a madmen, so Yuuri was positive to get a yes from their coach, too.

"Mhm..." Celestino tapped his chin deep in thought until Yuuri reached the bleachers. "I don't think it's a good idea to change your routines so much right before the competition. It will only heighten the stress you have to deal with."

That's when Yuuri realized how much Viktor had changed him within a few days.

"No."

"Excuse me?" Celestino replied.

"I said no. I will not go back to the old way. It wasn’t this whole and well-rounded." He wanted the result of constant working, run-throughs and improvements he and Viktor had achieved over the short time span they had on their hands.

"You placed third with it at the GPF." Celestino argued; tone sharp and cold. His coach had decided everything for him, the music, the elements, and Yuuri had just happily accepted. But Yuuri would not back down, he had shaped the program to something he really liked. Together. They did it together. Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov. A surprisingly well functioning team considering their differences in level, skill, upbringing and experiences.

“Yes, I did. Because Nikiforov-san had a mental breakdown on ice.” Yuuri would get his way, this time he would. If he gained anything from helping Viktor out of his misery it was this dance. A solo dance on the ice, what a pity, still it was something Yuuri would cherish. It was the only piece he could use to remember Viktor. Viktor. It would always be Viktor. How far he would travel and run, it would always be him.

The thought of portraying their combined work was like a warm blanket, covering him tightly. He could live off on it until his longing subsided.

"Well", Celestino looked sour though. "Don't come running and complain to me if it won't work out the way you imagined."

"I won't." That settled, Yuuri took off to run through the program once more.

 

* * *

 

Phichit tried to lighten the atmosphere but soon blabbered some meaningless stuff about the others skaters he had read online. Silently, Yuuri gathered a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. It was the night before Christmas, December 23th, even it had not the same meaning in Japan than in Europe or the States. He never wanted to argue with Celestino on Christmas, on the night before the competition, he never really argued with his coach before, nevertheless, he felt better. He had stood his ground, defended his opinion, carefully fought for his beliefs.

Maybe his Christmas present was the realization to finally sever ties with Celestino. Said man went ahead to clear out the last official stuff, get the schedule for the next days, with all the press conferences and meeting included.

Phichit did his best to brighten the mood though. They went eating out at a yakiniku restaurant with several others skaters and coaches, Minami Kenjirou-kun was elated and hyped to join them. Most of the coaches soon started drinking, while the conversations were light, everyone tried catching up and most of the questions to Yuuri centered around his time abroad.

“We are all looking up to you”, Minami confessed. “You made it, you’ve caught the attention of an internationally known pro.”

Yuuri just wanted to have the attention of one very special pro, but he decided to order a slice of strawberry cream cake instead. It was Christmas after all and he was suffering enough.

Due to the competition the friendly gathering did not last long, everyone headed to their respected hotel rooms. Phichit was staying with Celestino, still, he pulled up a silly Christmas comedy on Netflix, on which Yuuri fell asleep half the way through.

Two days were gone and he somehow survived.

 

* * *

 

Studying and training abroad Yuuri often forget that he was considered as one of the most famous and successful skaters of Japan. Each year he suddenly remembered his status when a bunch of reporters came to his first press conference before the competition. He always forgot how many noisy people wanted to have bits and pieces of him, to hear the hottest news, reporters, sponsors, skaters, all the like. He liked it quiet and often tried to disappear, to stroll around the arena Yuuri knew by heart. He wasn’t a very social person in the first pkace, anxiety and distrust thank you, still he was raised to show respect and behave accordingly.

During last years those hours before the short program were annoying but tolerable. Today, Yuuri wondered how Viktor had survived this long, imagining the stress and the hustle would multiply infinitely for him. Still, he was tied to Japanese nationals, he could not afford to ditch them. Even placing third would be a huge boost for his bank account. He needed the prize money and the sponsorships that came with presenting a refined routine.

A couple of minutes before warm-up Yuuri sneaked off though. His costume itched uncomfortably, he wanted to check whether his hair looked right and maybe he just wanted to lock himself for five minutes in a bathroom stall – enjoying the quiet and wondering if he should call home to get at last minute cheer from all the people in Hasetsu. And Viktor. Always Viktor.

He speed-dialed home. Impatiently.

“Ganbare, Yuuri!” His mother picked up instantly. “We are cheering for you!”

Yuuri smiled, feeling fueled with motivation again. Imaging Viktor’s voice was in the background of the loud outburst. “Thank you, it’s nice to hear you’ve got my back.”

“Have you met Minako, by chance?” His mother asked. “She’s been making banners and flags all week and traveled by a night train to Tokyo so she could cheer for you.”

“No, I haven’t …”

“Well, then don’t tell her I blabbed her secret. She wanted to surprise you.” His mother giggled happily. “Do your best! Make us proud! And a merry Christmas to you!” The crowd cheered again and the line was cut off.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri gathered his things, checked his costume again and went out into the silent hall on the backside of the arena.

Day three was getting harder and harder. But he needed to focus, to concentrate, to gather all his concentration and …

“Yuuri.”

He stood frozen. Now he was imaging voices. Great. Day three and Viktor crept into his daydreams. How should he survive a week? A month? This was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

“Yuuri.”

“Fuck my brain, it sounds actually like him.”

Suddenly a hand was placed on his shoulder. “Maybe because it’s me.”

The screech that slipped over Yuuri’s lips should have notified the security personnel, he sounded like being murdered on the spot. He turned on his heels and saw: Viktor.

Beautiful Viktor. Beautiful ocean blue eyes crinkling with mischief and joy. A smile stretched wide.

 Viktor shuffled closer. „Surprise“, he whispered. His silver locks were pushed back and hidden under a black beanie and the oversized sweater with dog ears was the perfect costume.

“What are you doing here?”, Yuuri blurted out. His heart was racing, his breath hitched. Was he dreaming? “How? I mean … when?” Very intellectual. Very well done. Damnit!

“I’ve tagged along with Minako and got lucky to catch a train ticket.” Viktor took Yuuri’s hand gently and pressed a feather-light kiss on his knuckles. “I just wanted to wish you good luck in person.”

Thanks to his skates Yuuri had gained height so that he was able to press their foreheads together. He gazed directly in Viktor’s ocean blue eyes, saw the hint of amusement, the flash of something deeper and the crinkles caused by Viktor’s smile. “Is that so?”

Viktor grinned mischievously. They’ve been separated for a few hours, three days, but somehow Yuuri felt a magnetic pull. He needed to touch Viktor as much as he wanted to be touched. Which was an almost scary experience, considering the Japanese habits of PDA. Yuuri just needed to angle his head right and push forward – the hood would hide them, the halls were ever so empty, too. It was so tempting, his pulse quickened, he could feel how Viktor held his breath.

“Viktor, can I …”

“Yuuri!”, suddenly Celestino’s voice shouted. “There you are! Why have you been running off? You need to warm up!”

Yuuri drew back with so much force, he almost toppled backward, but Viktor was quick to steady him before he retreated.

“Ganbare, Yuuri-kun!”, Viktor shouted, doing a silly dance and waving the Katsuki-fan-flag Minako gave him earlier. It only had been days but he almost sounded native now. “You can do it!”

“Arigatou!” He bowed deeply, as if portraying his humble thanks, but in reality, he just wanted to hide his blush. Why?! And how should he concentrate on his short program now when all of his thoughts lingered on the possibility to touch Viktor’s lips.

“Who was that?”, Celestino wanted to know.

“A fan”, Yuuri replied, pondering how he could explain his behavior. “We kinda know each other for years and he comes to my Japanese competitions if he can arrange … uhm his work schedule. He even made a Vic-chan-cosplay, amazing, isn’t it?”

Celestino quirked an eyebrow questioningly, then started to pat Yuuri’s back. “It’s good that you finally want to interact with your fans.”

“Yeah … definitely.”

Yuuri gazed back over his shoulder, longingly. 

 

* * *

 

Viktor made an extra twirl before he dashed off to his seat. That had been close. Did Yuuri try to kiss him? Did he imagine things? Or did he not?

The universe certainly played against him lately.

He skipped the warm-up on purpose. He wasn’t sure what to do when he saw Yuuri dancing on the ice. As usual, just a few spectators came to watch this part of the event. Viktor did not want to draw too much attention to him. Later, the arena would be packed and he could fuse with the crowd. He could cheer and clap and scream like he never did before. He had never been allowed to cheer loudly, not even for Chris. He needed a distant composure, the best figure skater in the world had no favorites. He had always been calm and collected, but today he could let all of his bottled admiration out.

Minkao, right beside him wasn’t the quietest either.

“So?” She asked, eyebrows raised. “Did you kiss him good luck?”

Viktor choked on his little red bean paste snack.

“What?”

“Did you wish him Merry Christmas with a tight hug?”

“Well ... no? Should I?”

The former ballerina sighed. “What a pity.”

While waiting for the official event to start, they talked and snacked and cheered – Viktor was actually having a great time. He had always been separated from most of the spectacle, a high towering wall of anticipation and fame shielding him from most of the interactions. Fangirl and fanboys desperately wanting to touch him aside. But being a part of it was fun, he could feel the tension vibrating in the air, watch the spectators going all out, enveloped by whoops and ahhs and ohhhhs. Without the need to deliver the best, most exciting routine a figure skating competition turned out to be a very nice place. No fear, no stress, no panic.

The whole process of watching was electrifying, especially since he didn’t have to hold back on anything.

Minako, thoughtful and enthusiastic Minako, was smiling over his antics, was even joining him with silly dances. Viktor couldn’t remember when he has so much fun during a competition.

Yet, his thoughts never left Yuuri entirely whose turn had almost arrived.

Viktor had considered that Yuuri could change his mind. He feared that Yuuri wouldn't want him anymore after having some distance between them, after taking a breather of his obnoxious personality. That he would ignore him, push him aside, scold him for intruding, for disturbing him …

No one ever wanted him after all. They all left sooner or later.

But instead, he suffered from an almost-kiss. He didn’t imagine things, did he?

“Yuuri!”, Minako screamed at the top of her lungs, her pink victory banner fluttering like crazy. “Ganbatte! Yuuri!”

In awe, Viktor watched the crowd. Yuuri's fans, women and men, were swooning over his improved short program, he was most certainly Japan's ace. Still, the Yuuri Viktor got to know was humble, so insecure, like he had never acknowledged his talents. He understood him, in a way, they were similar to each other. Viktor never believed that an individual would love him, just for being himself. Yuuri never believed that the crowd would love him for his skating, he always thought he had more room to improve, that he let the spectators down.

As a part of the collective experience, Viktor could feel the emotions running through the arena. No one was let down today.

Yuuri certainly did not know which magic he cast while dancing on the ice. Viktor had seen the routine several times now, he analyzed it with Yuuri, still, he was mesmerized of this beautiful boy telling a story about challenges.

Oh, how Viktor would love to win the challenge of capturing Yuuri’s heart.

 

* * *

 

“It didn’t turn out so bad”, Celestino said after waiting in the kiss and cry for Yuuri’s results.

Which meant in reality: Yuuri was currently second place.

Which meant for him: He had a chance to place on the podium.

He needed to clear the area soon, still, Yuuri scanned the stands for a cute poodle costume and a crazy ballet teacher with a pink victory banner. Viktor surely watched together with Minako, hopefully, no one would recognize him under his disguise. He looked for a towering figure but his efforts were fruitless.

“We should discuss what to improve until Four Continents after you have stretched”, Celestino offered, holding up the curtain that split the arena off from the athletes' area.

Yuuri nodded absently, looking for a silent corner to stretch as on auto-drive. Had Viktor liked what he saw? Had he done well? Should he text him and ask? No, that wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he could text Minako if they … No, that wasn’t an option either.

Viktor. Viktor. Viktor. It was a powerful spell which held Yuuri captive. Viktor. All the way down until he drowned until he would master all the challenges that separated him from this gorgeous man.

It was a promise.

 

* * *

 

With Celestino and Phichit glued to his side, there was no way that Yuuri could rush to Viktor. To Minako which probably accompanied Viktor. First, he needed to change, then he needed to attend the press conference for all the figure skaters who placed best five. Yuuri was whisked away, meetings, analyzes, Phichit suggesting to eat out with the other athletes. Nevertheless, Yuuri always looked out for a tall figure in the background, so hard, even Minami-kun asked if he was waiting for someone to arrive.

Overall, it was a nice evening, a cheerful meet-up between colleagues, who were mostly tired after a long day but sung Christmas songs nevertheless. Yuuri excused himself early, he needed a well-deserved break and good amount of sleep, even if all the athletes were having a free day on Saturday.

A little bit tipsy from the spiked drink Phichit offered him, very full and saturated, smiling like a huge idiot because he ended up being the second place – he! Although everyone has given their best and …

Yuuri did not know how he ended up in front of his hotel room. He somehow did. Yet, his thoughts were spinning endlessly.

It wasn’t that late maybe quarter past ten in the evening, but tiredness was settling in. Too late he realized that something was blocking his door when he tried to push in his key card.

A hunched figure napped on the hard floor in front of his room. An oversized poodle sweater cuddled tightly around him, a small travel bad used as a bad replacement of a cushion.

“Viktor?” Yuuri sobered up instantly. “What are you doing here?”

Viktor blinked hazily, realizing who was bending over him and shot up at lightning speed.

Yuuri’s first response was to unlock the door and shove the beautiful Russian inside before anyone could see or hear them. Several skaters were sleeping on this floor. It was far too dangerous for Viktor to stay outside.

 “There were no rooms left,” Viktor explained as Yuuri switched the lights on. “Neither in this hotel nor anywhere else in this city. It’s Christmas, so figures and I didn’t want to burden Minako after we’ve been to that little ramen stall and …”

“You traveled here without having a place to stay?”, Yuuri interrupted him.

“Yeah …”, Viktor answered sheepishly. He looked worn-out, clothes crumpled. “I wanted to see you skate. It was probably the last chance this season and …”

He wanted to see him.

“Do you wanna stay?” The words apparently developed a life on their own. “I mean you were sleeping in front of my hotel room door.”

“That’s not why …” Viktor averted his gaze. “I just wanted to wait for your return, we couldn’t finish our conversation earlier and … well, I’ve never supposed you go drinking out.”

Yuuri took Viktor’s travel bag without further asking, placing it on a counter. “Please stay.” It sounded so suave and easy, meanwhile, Yuuri screamed inside his head from excitement. “I could not risk getting you a cold if you wander around the whole night at Tokyo. Besides, it’s Christmas. No one should be alone at Christmas.”

“Yeah, thank you.”

It didn’t take long for them to end up as a tangled mess on the small hotel bed. But neither of them did mind at all.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning came sooner than Yuuri expected.

„Yuuri!“, Phichit barged into his room. “You need to get up now! We have training in half an hour!”

Somehow, Yuuri managed to shove Viktor out of the bed and simultaneously jump to his feet. “I’m awake!”, he shouted, accidentally in Japanese, which covered Viktor’s ‘Oumpf!’ just barely.

To his utter luck, the blinds were still down, the room was covered in a grayish darkness and Phichit, bless his soul, did not torture Yuuri by switching the lights on.

Somehow, Yuuri ran into the bathroom, changed and grabbed his gear at light speed. Seconds later, a little bit dizzy though, he was greeting Phichit outside of his hotel room.

„Don’t forget to lock“, his best friend reminded him gently.

“No, I _won’t_ ”, he stressed, loudly. “Let’s go to the rink, Phichit.”

Of course, he didn’t lock.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Viktor laid on his back, fist stuffed in his mouth to swallow up his bubbling laughter. This was so ridiculous but, still, it felt simply amazing.

Usually, his birthdays did not start this crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw ...  
> [Viktor's disguise was inspired by this ](https://media.sweatshirtxy.com/styles/large/s3/s3fs-public/hoodie-images/dog-hoodie-ears-for-girls-brown-and-white-splice-tops113768.jpg?itok=6XR7ppXn)  
> [and this one. :)](https://www.buytra.com/sites/default/files/styles/large/public/newwear-main-images/17-03-06/poodle-dog-cosplay-hoodie-ears-yuri-ice-costume-sweatshirt-122094.jpg?itok=6Vyjzhuo)


	7. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I say "Well, things are starting to look better" the universe punches me in the face ...  
> Anyway ... on the bright side: I've written an 8k wrap-up and decided to split it into 2 chapters. Both are finished, the last one needs some editing but its written. ;)

Yuuri glided mindlessly over the ice before he continued his training. Today, nationals were going to pause. At least, for the men’s division. Currently, there were as twice as much female figure skaters competing in the Japanese junior and senior division so that they would occupy the ice today. Still, the male competitors got some training squeezed in, that’s why Phichit had barged into his hotel room.

Yuuri gained speed to jump his last triple axel for today before switching over to practice his spins.

He never anticipated being a greedy person. He had been overly determined. He always set high goals which seemed almost too much to bear. But there he was. Greedy for Viktor’s attention and praise. Greedy to spend more time with him.

He wanted Viktor to look only at him.

He wanted to be the only one that knew of his presence. ( And Minako of course, but well ... Minako could keep a secret. Otherwise, she would have told Viktor that Yuuri rambled half of his childhood over long silver tresses.)

Yuuri came out of his spiral gracefully and did a couple of figure eights before focused onto his jumps. Single, double, triple flip – what would he give to land a quad flip.

Luckily, Celestino knew his training regime, Yuuri often ran through it without stopping or the need for advice. Thus, his mind wandered to Viktor who sat in a secluded part of the arena. All alone but watching. Watching Yuuri. His last jump was a bit over-rotated but he landed it safe and sound, and Yuuri gave in to the temptation of sultrily swinging his hips…  

His greed would never blossom into something deeper or more stable. Still, Yuuri never backed down from a fight. The higher the challenge the more he fought, the more he hated to lose. Although returning to America and getting is degree should not count as a defeat, Yuuri hated to lose that frail friendship Viktor and he had developed. He hated to lose to the circumstances, hated to lose all those what-ifs. He had already gained a lot of experience in the US tough – and he was pretty grateful for that -  his degree in a foreign language on top.

Still, his loss was inevitable and this made his greed grow exponentationally.

Today was a rest day. Tomorrow was the day of the men’s free program. The exhibition. The organizers had asked him if he could perform his “Stammi Viccino” copy that created a landslide of attention online and Yuuri had agreed without a second thought. Afterward, the banquet was held which was a lot smaller and calmer than the one after the GPF but more important to Yuuri since he needed to charm his Japanese sponsors. Skating attire didn’t grow on trees and no one would expect all those sharp edges on the ice that tore his sweats and shirts regularly.

Minako had drilled into him how to be humble but a little bit demanding, still social gatherings exhausted Yuuri.

The day after tomorrow, in the afternoon, he would fly back to the US. Plus the drive to Narita airport would take a while, too. A more reasonable deadline: 52 hours left.

Yuuri ran through his free program, marking the jumps, purely relying on instinct and body memory, as he calculated and planned. Fate had given him extra time with Viktor as a Christmas present. He had to make the most of it.

 

* * *

 

The booked training hour ended sooner than Yuuri expected though. But instead of gliding over to Celestino, Yuuri had another destination in mind.

“Vic-chan”, Yuuri called. He slurred the syllables on purpose; it sounded more than a nickname to the rest of the spare spectators. Still, Viktor turned to him expectantly. Or at least Yuuri assumed that. The oversized poodle sweater covered most of his handsome face.

Yuuri waved and made a subtle come hither gesture towards him. Viktor climbed down the stands until he reached the bleachers. Luckily the security was lax until the event started. Only the hardcore fans attended the training hours before comparatively small events as Nationals.

“Hai?”

Yuuri stooped right before the bleachers, hands resting on top of them. “What are you doing today?”, he asked in English. Voice hushed.

“Oh, nothing much. I assumed you take it easy? Replenish your energy for tomorrow?” Silly, always rule-breaking Viktor Nikiforov suddenly sounded like a model student. Maybe he was sorry for the crick in Yuuri’s neck he suffered from their impromptu sleep-over.

“But it’s your birthday.” And Yuuri had not prepared a gift. He never expected the last weeks to happen, he never expected Viktor to show up in Tokyo either. But here they were. This man never ceased to surprise him.

Viktor shrugged nonchalantly. Trying to hide how ocean blue eyes roamed over Yuuri’s costume from up close. “Well my birthday is every year, so I’m quite used to it. Aside from that, without my own Nationals, it’s rather relaxing.”

Still, Yuuri pouted. He could see Viktor gulp. See that Adam's apple hop up and down. “How about I take you sightseeing? We could eat somewhere nice, without disguises.”

“But you probably want to focus on your competition and you’ll spend time with the other skaters and …”

Yuuri leaned closer, his warm breaths ghosting Viktor’s cheek. “But do you want to?”

Viktor took in a sharp breath before he whispered: “Yes …”

“Then it’s settled.” Without further warning Yuuri glided back to his coach, reaching for his skate guards and stepping off the ice.

“Your practice went pretty decent considering the last times before a major event.” Celestino praised. “How are you feeling?” He didn’t ask him if he was nervous or on a mental breakdown, at least.

Funnily, Yuuri was nervous as hell, but for different reasons than the usual. Did he pack some nice shirt? Would it matter? In December, Tokyo was freezing over. He should put an extra scarf for Viktor into his bag if he wanted to visit some Christmas illuminations. Yes … that sounded like a legit plan.

“Yuuri?” Celestino asked again. “Are you listening?”

“What? Yeah, um … no? Sorry. I was thinking about something.” Yuuri wondered where his confidence suddenly spurred from. He set his shoulders straight and declared that he did not need the second training later in the afternoon. Instead, he would use the time to catch up with some other skaters and friends he hadn’t seen for years. He did not even wait for Celestino and Phichit to agree.

 

* * *

 

Viktor waited at Yuuri’s hotel room door and watched how he abandoned every figure skating related thing with hasted care. While zipping up his own thermal jacket, Yuuri changed clothes, sported a woolen beanie similar to Viktor’s, slipped into gloves, packed a small backpack, bought public transport tickets via phone and shoved Viktor out of the door. Somehow he even managed to engage the hotel into dry-cleaning his poodle disguise.

Viktor didn’t complain. He was just surprised how they exited the hotel and the area around the arena at blinding speed. Yuuri who had been at Toyko regularly for competitions, school excursions and to watch other skaters with Minako as a teenager wove his way through the city, always keeping him close. By train, they arrived at Ikebukuro, a bustling part of the city, full with little shops and restaurants, each of them more colorful than the next. It was a Mecca for anime fans, cosplayers and the younger generations, stuffed and always busy – the perfect area to blend in as figure skaters.

The talk was light, Viktor bought a few snacks and tea brand Yuuri recommended, and souvenirs for Toshiya-san, Hiroko and Mari since they were the nicest people Viktor met in a long time. He had been spending much more money on clothes or toiletry than today but he never remembered having so much fun while buying silly ninja merchandise or a tissue box plush in the form of a brown poodle.  

Yuuri made him stop at the SEGA arcade, challenging him into some games that were playable in English or easy to understand for non-fluent-gamers. Viktor tried to remember the last time he had engaged himself in video games. Yuri Plisetsky owned a couple of them but …

The thought vanished as Viktor was pulled into a small izakaya restaurant where Yuuri explained most of the menu for him although he intended to sample everything. His very own favorite Japanese ace tried to stop him since he did not eat not much before competitions, so Viktor settled down to taste at least half of everything.

“Are you okay?”, he asked as he watched Yuuri nibbling on some yakitori skewer.

“I do not like crowds or all this noise very much,” Yuuri admitted sheepishly. “But it’s not about me, it’s about you, and seeing you happily lose every game we try outweighs my silly discomfort.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“But this one time I …”

“I let you win. Since it’s your birthday and all.”

“You did not,” Viktor answered dramatically offended and shuffled the cleared plates as his next order arrived. “I mean ... we are here in this cozy little restaurant eating …”

”Gyoza.”

“ Gyoza”, Viktor probed, satisfied. “You should be probably attending some press event as Japan’s current ace and I ... I’m still the most wanted figure skater which face is plastered on search posters everywhere ... but we’re sitting here and it feels like ...”

“We’re defying gravity”, Yuuri completed his sentences, mirroring Viktor’s smile.

“Yes!”, he agreed and placed the plate between them. They simultaneously reached for the chopsticks. “And it feels amazing.”

 

* * *

 

It was ridiculously late since Yuuri insisted on showing Viktor a giant glowing Christmas tree that was placed on a very _couplely_ spot in the city.

They did nothing couplely though. Unfortunately. At least nothing straight out of the book couplely. The waitress who served them strawberry shortcake actually winked at them since Yuuri roped Viktor into some secret Japanese couple ritual for Christmas. But Viktor did not notice, he had been fully engrossed with the taste and the Christmas decoration of the small café.

Blame his heart, he kinda dreamt of watching Viktor eating cream cake with him at Christmas since he was thirteen. It was an innocent fantasy, especially since Yuuri insisted on sharing his piece, it was still the night before the free program. But throughout the day he had settled to satisfy his greed with small things. No one really heard of the pocky game outside from Japan, but Yuuri loved to watch Viktor nibble on a banana-chocolate-stick and imagining how this could play out otherwise.  (This dream started a little after the cake fantasy, actually.)

It did satisfy the greed, a little, a tiny little bit.

Exhausted from a day with too many people, too many sounds and colors, Yuuri flopped straight onto the bed the moment he changed into more comfy clothing.

“Ne, Yuuri?”

He tried to groan, but his mind was full of Viktor. Viktor’s hair tousled from the wind on the viewing terrace. Viktor contemplating if Yuuri’s mother would appreciate the matcha brand he picked. Viktor being almost too cute as he took some photos with the staff of a maid café. ( Which actually tried to distribute flyers. )

“Was today supposed to be a date?”

Yuuri pretended to be asleep, smiling into his cushion.

Viktor waited a few more seconds, before tugging in, curling himself around Yuuri. The bed was ridiculously small and maybe, just maybe Yuuri would ask for a neck-to-shoulder massage tomorrow.

“Good night, my Yuuri.” Viktor snuggled impossibly close and Yuuri smiled; drifting off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The next day Yuuri wished he wouldn’t need sleep in order to function properly. The few hours he could have spent with Viktor slipped through his fingers. Breakfast, applying make-up, styling his hair, warm-up, meeting with Celestino … the day sped by. Nevertheless, when someone special yelled “Yuuri!” with a silly Kyushuu accent, he abandoned Celestino and hid into the next alcove.

Silly crush. Silly hopes. Silly greed to smooch Viktor into oblivion.

They only had a minute or two. Squished into a spot that was hard to look into. As if they were having an affair. As if they were spies on a mission. As if Viktor was the greatest treasure and had to be kept hidden from the world.

„I wanted to wish you good luck and ...“ Viktor stopped, flustered beyond words. His hood was drawn low and Yuuri wished he could look into his ocean blue eyes. “Well, good luck.”

“Viktor?” Yuuri loved the effect he had when he overpronunced the name, rolling the r. He lowered his stance and searched for his idol’s gaze.

“Yes, Yuuri?”

“Aside from luck …” He hesitated. Suddenly he had thought about a better motivation. A way to keep his nerves in check. “If I place podium can I state a wish?”

Victor’s smile crinkled. A mischievous grin appeared. “If you win gold, I’ll be happy to grant you any wish.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri elegantly took a round on the ice waving at the fans and spectators, he secretly looked for a certain brown poodle hood next to Minako-sensei’s offensive pink sign. Before setting into his starting position he blew a kiss up to the stands and the crowd erupted into shrieks and cheers.

He couldn’t suppress the smirk at all, the music started and Yuuri took off. He had to secure a gold medal.

 

* * *

 

Several ranks up, well hidden under his disguise, Viktor placed his fingers on hot cheeks, trying to hide his blush. But he never took his gaze off Yuuri. Graceful, enticing Yuuri.

As well as everyone else watching.

“I assume you two spent Christmas nicely …” Minako teased but did not ask anything further.

 

* * *

 

It was the first time Yuuri couldn’t wait to vanish from a banquet although he did win. He did win with a large margin! Somehow, repeating helped to realize the truth. He did win the gold medal at Japanese nationals, nailed the exhibition, sponsors wanted to talk to him, fellow athletes wanted to congratulate, he should be proud … he should be excited. Still, his thoughts were wondering back to Viktor. Viktor, beautiful Viktor who went late-night shopping after Yuuri stated his wish. Thankfully, Tokyo never slept.

No, it was not the best idea to think about Viktor. Or about Viktor changing his clothes in order to buy an appealing outfit. Instead, Yuuri tried to focus on the elderly woman, a sponsor. “We are a family business, expanding slowly over Japan, running a sports hotel in the mountains. It sure would be great to acquire a national hero …”

Which color would Yuuri’s very own personal hero choose?

 

* * *

 

Somehow he managed to stay an appropriate amount of time before he escaped into their hotel room, changed clothes that Viktor bought for him and smiled at the little note attached to the fabric: _Seen it at the store. Thought you would look gorgeous in it._ He did. Yuuri took a glance-over, checked his attire, his make-up, grabbed his coat and vanished without telling anyone where he went.

Guess, silly crushes on five times world champions skyrocket his willingness to take risks.

He paced through the hotel lobby, his gaze lingered shortly on the big clock – hours, hours ticking by. His greed roared loudly, to run, to chase, to hunt. But Yuuri squished it back into the corner of his mind.

He met Viktor at the rendezvous point several streets down where he called them a taxi.

Although it had been unusual for Yuuri to voice a wish he wanted to go dancing Viktor as a reward. He had won gold, he had done all he could the ensure Viktor stayed close.

Viktor had agreed in a split second and Yuuri started to believe karma was paying him off with dances. He still dreamt of the GPF gala vividly, but this night he would see Viktor in a different setting. In fact, Yuuri asked him to go clubbing. It was a habit developed in the U.S., Yuuri always loved to dance, he mastered every step and every combination on this planet he could get a hold onto. While dancing he stopped thinking. While dancing his anxiety was silent. While dancing he could show a part of himself that he usually kept hidden.

It was a shame that Viktor did not remember their dance at the GPF gala. This time, Yuuri would make sure he did. The greed planted a thought into his mind, that Viktor should always remember a carefree, excited Yuuri.  

The taxi took them into one of Yuuri’s favorite spots in Tokyo which he discovered the last time he stayed for a competition. Loud music and vivid basses poured out from the entrance, engulfing Yuuri with every step. Yuuri took the lead, enjoying how the black pants clung to his legs. The shirt Viktor had bought hung low enough to be a bit revealing and to move freely but covered enough so that Yuuri felt comfortable. However, Viktor’s black dress shirt, buttoned teasingly low, tempted Yuuri with every passing second.

He stopped at the bar at first, ordering a row of shots, drinking the first without hesitation.

 “Are you sure you …”, Viktor asked, his breath ghosting Yuuri’s ears and neck. He liked how Viktor towered right beside him as soon as they had entered the fully-packed dance-floor.

“Yeah.” Yuuri took another one without hesitating. “I need to relax before my mind tells me to freak out. I’m clubbing with freaking Viktor Nikiforov at my most favorite dancing spot in the world.”

Viktor clanged their glasses, probably his Russian genes prevented him from getting tipsy. And if they did? Yuuri did not care at the moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind Yuuri already started to spin a story. He was the most beautiful dancer and bewitched the most gorgeous man who just stayed a night in town … or something like that.

Song after song. Drink after drink.

Exhilarating.

 

* * *

 

Once, Yuuri lost track of Viktor, realizing too late that the thundering music, the steady flow of drinks made him forget his surroundings as he danced to his heart’s content. But as soon as he opened his eyes again … Viktor. Standing in the middle of the dance floor. Viktor. Looking lost between all those men and women ... but already picking up the beat. Viktor. Being taller than most of the others. They were still several steps apart, Yuuri glided with ease in the small spots. Viktor. Lighting up like the sun the moment he caught Yuuri’s approach. Viktor. Eyes emitting an almost impossible warmth, face all soft, lips curled into a hinted seductive smile.

“Viktor”, Yuuri almost screamed against the beat but it came out as a whisper.

“Yuu---“ The second syllable was lost when Yuuri crashed his mouth against Viktor’s.

 

* * *

 

“Sit down.”

Yuuri asked him nicely, a little bit more aggressive than he was used to, still, he treated Viktor carefully. He even checked twice if he had locked the door of the toiled cabin they were staying in. Viktor had been shoved down in several places, clubs, nooks, back door entrances, locker rooms, …  throughout his life, but Yuuri, as drunk as possible, was still gentle with him.

Viktor’s heartbeat was on a frenzy about how much Yuuri cared for him.

He was drunk, clearly, heated gaze, lustful, hair tousled, shirt undone – if someone caught them he would not only risk the embers of his career but also Yuuri’s.  For once, Viktor didn’t care. He just needed to … He lifted his hand to pull Yuuri close, he intertwined their fingers.

The top hung deliciously loose on Yuuri’s slender hips, revealing his collarbone, sweat glistening in the light from above. They’ve been dancing around each other for the last days in Tokyo, neither wanting to give in the temptation nor ready to push the other one finally away. Victor wanted to touch, to taste, to savor – so badly, but he waited.

No one ever stayed. But Yuuri should stay as long as Viktor could manage him to do.

Yuuri leaned down to him until their eyes were on the same level.

“I’ve done the thinking for us in Sochi, when you’re so drunk you didn’t even remember how you kissed and dry-humped me in the elevator. It’s your job this time.”

“We’ve kissed?”, Viktor gasped. When did that happen? Why didn’t he remember this?

“Yeah.”

“And we made out?”

“At least you tried to. Very much so.” Yuuri’s lips stretched into a hungry grin. “It wouldn’t have been the best choice to get under your skin after that emotional breakdown of yours though ... I’m just saying if you don’t want this …”, he gestured between them, “then tell me to stop. Make me stop. Understood?”

Viktor nodded. Breathless.

“Should I stop?”

A light shake.

“Y’sure?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” An instant later Yuuri’s mouth is back on his, his fingers wandering for the low waistline of Viktor’s pants.

He never considered stopping Yuuri. He never thought about anything at all just sought the touch, needed to feel, to taste, to laugh, to kiss breathlessly and to fully melt into the scorching wonderful haze that Yuuri Katsuki offered him.

 

* * *

 

The next thing Yuuri clearly perceived was an atrociously loud knocking.

“Which time is it?”, he groaned, stretching lazily as his thoughts emerged from a black pool of nothingness.  
“Last time I checked it was two a.m. but you surely made me lost track”, Viktor’s hot breath tingled at his ear shortly before he started to trail wet, sloppy kisses over Yuuri’s jawline. “I didn’t know you could dance like a god, Solyshko.”  
Yuuri had never been awake faster – thanks to the hard floor he hit the next second as he leapt in surprise and the splitting headache he was greeting the second after.  
He had some clothes on – Yuuri sighed in relief as Viktor’s gorgeous chest came into view and a pair of silly dog themed boxers. “What happened?”, he groaned. “It’s all hazy and foggy … moah. Stop that banging!”, he yelled suddenly at the door.

“Good morning to you”, Phichit sounded a bit offended. “Next time you go clubbing you could ask me to join, you know? But since hangover Yuuri is no use at all, I won’t complain now. We’ve got an hour before we have to leave for Narita, I’ll back in thirty if you don’t text me. Breakfast in the hotel restaurant.”

Yuuri turned back to Viktor who handed him a glass of water, some aspirin and watched him closely. “Let me guess, you don’t remember?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No Russian’s genes which can turn alcohol into water.”

“Well, drinking into oblivion seems to be a hobby of both of us.“

Yuuri blinked at his words. Time was ticking away, so he tried to get up and start looking for his luggage. “I’m sorry for everything outrageous I did last night. I have a habit to launch myself at ikemen when I’m drunk beyond stupidity. You should ask Phichit some time, he’s always teasing me with it.”

“Ikemen?”

“Gorgeous hot unbelievable sexy men”, he translated, already used to translate everything to Viktor without thinking about it.

“You not even took a glance at the men in the club last night.” Gently, Viktor cradled Yuuri’s face as he wanted to move his gaze up. Where was his suitcase? “Does that make me your one and only ikemen?”

Yuuri blushed at that.

“I … you …”

Belatedly Yuuri realized that he was completely naked. Not a blink of clothes. Why did he woke up naked … and why … His hazy thoughts drifted away and focused on the poodle pattern: “Why are you wearing my spare underwear?”

Victor chuckled lightly. “Finders keepers. However the idiom goes.”

“Yeah, but …” Yuuri tried to remember, he tried to remember, but the lasts bits were several shots and Victor looking like a gorgeous demi-god on the dance floor, Yuuri wanted to have a taste from …

“Oh, shit, Victor, di-did we …?”

But the banging resumed.

“Fuck, Phichit! If you weren’t my best friend I would murder you right now!”

“I forgot hangover Yuuri is sleepy Yuuri. So I’m accompanying you to breakfast. Whoever you hooked up with last night, tell him to hide in the bathroom, if he wants to stay anonymous. Otherwise, I might be tempted to take a shot for my very own #whatsupwithYuuri section on Instagram. Maybe we will lure Viktor out with a naked headshot of you.”

Yuuri never hated his noisy buddy more than at this moment. “Yes, I’m up! Give me ten seconds to come out.”

“Ten, come on, hot stranger”, the Thai skater counted, “nine, time is ticking. Eight …”

Viktor sent Yuuri one last tired and very sad smile before he left for his hiding spot.


	8. An Offer He Couldn't Refuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuuuu... it almost took me a year to finish this. :O  
> But this is the end, I'm kinda sad to leave the story behind... 
> 
> Please enjoy.  
> Please tell me if you liked it. :)
> 
> *Edit: AO3 mangled my formatting ... sigh. I've fixed it.

 

Settling back into the dorms after a couple of days at the onsen felt like heartbreak. Sure, Yuuri only missed his dog, his family, the familiar surroundings. Viktor didn’t cross his mind regularly, not like every three minutes during the hour-long flight. Or at the luggage check-out, during the ride back to the dorms, every freaking step he had to take or when his keys jingled as they hid the sideboard at the door. Vic-chans dog tag jingled like this, too, when Viktor played with the dog. It did, yes, it did.

It’s not like he was pondering over the thought why Viktor kept his … his … Gosh, he was pathetic, grown-up and all, he couldn’t even voice the thought when sober. He wasn’t a virgin for god’s sake. It didn’t take long after his stay in the more open-minded States.

But instead of being heartbroken over an unrequited love Yuuri promised to focus on the important things: polishing his routines. He wanted at least to win bronze with their routine at 4CC … maybe he could attend Worlds.

Yuuri wanted to focus on the feeling that bloomed in his chest when Viktor watched him with a smile. From far, far away, but still.

His plan lasted about three minutes.

Phichit flopped onto their worn-down sofa, luggage being piled in the small room, and logged into their dorm’s wifi. He had been out of reach due to an unstable connection at the airport so his roommate checked all the news sites, Instagram, and other social network sites instantly. Phichit always needed to hear the news before everyone else did.

“Yuuri look!” He suddenly screeched as Yuuri started carefully to unwrap his skates. “Viktor’s been spotted.”

He choked on his breath. On his very being. “Re-really?”

“Yeah, he went clubbing in Tokyo during nationals, he has nerves to be in Tokyo but not to show up.”

More or less, Yuuri fixed his gaze on the skates. “He has always been extra.”

Phichit made a tutting sound as he read further. “Someone spotted him snogging a Japanese woman.”

This time Yuuri almost died on his spit and coughed dangerously. Phichit joined him on the floor, sent him a worried look, but also wanted to show him the blurry pictures.

“Oh, sorry, bud, I know you pine after him, but it seems like he’s into women now. But hey, good news, he’s not dead?”

“Are we sure, this is Viktor?”

“There’s no official statement and it pretty grainy but, well … I would like to believe it. As well as more than a million re-tweets, comments, and re-posts.” Phichit scrolled a bit down. “Eye-witnesses said that he made-out with that woman on the dance floor, vanished into the bathrooms and came out rather flushed.”

Yuuri’s thoughts were pinned on the poodle themed boxer, lazily hugging Viktor’s hips. And … did he really look like a woman?

“Yuuri? Everything okay? Are you panicking?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know.”

He needed to remember.

 

* * *

 

On the third day back at the dorms, inbetween his training routine and racing to classes and work Viktor send him a picture of Vicchan napping in his childhood room. A few words of small talk followed, everyone was fine, yadda, yadda. Yuuri didn’t reply since it was useless to cry after a hopeless crush. (And he didn’t want to know what happened that night.) The next day, Yuuri was greeted with Vicchan playing in the snow and Viktor telling that a couple of inches had fallen over Hatsetsu. He didn’t reply. The day after a short video flooded in, Mari cooing at Vicchan for being a good boy. Surely it would stop. Surely, one day, Yuuri would return from practice or take a look on his break and there would be no picture.

One week passed.

One and a half.

Viktor kept texting and sending photos.

At the brink of the second week, Yuuri finally answered. _Did we have sex?_ In Japanese though, making sure, Phichit would never understand.

It took a while a while before his phone beeped.

_If I can trust Google translator on this … yes._

Thankfully Yuuri had been alone in their dorm since he shrieked like a banshee.

_Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to force you or anything. I didn’t want you to drunkenly make-out with me not remembering a thing. I’m sorry Viktor, it was not okay to take advantage of you. I’m sorry! Why are you even sending pictures after I did such a thing?_

Yuuri almost threw his phone against the next wall and crouched down on his bed.

Viktor tried to call him, but Yuuri swiped him away. There were no words left to describe his predicament. The best course of action was to apologize. A string of muttered sorrys left him, still, he wished he would remember at least one bit of their night.

Instantly, his phone beeped.

 _Breathe,_ solnyshko _._

_Deep breaths._

_What does that mean?_

_My sun._

“Oh gosh”, Yuuri heaved. Viktor stayed on the other side of the planet, hours and hours away but he still sensed the up-coming panic attack that rattled Yuuri’s bones.

_You didn’t force me to anything. Yuuri. Instead, you asked me three times if I was sure. You couldn’t tell the taxi driver your hotel address but you still asked for my conscience. Well, I don’t remember the elevator kiss, you don’t remember an amazing night. We’re even._

Next, a selfie of them popped up. They were at the club, that night, Viktor was laughing into the camera while Yuuri kissed his cheek. They were positively glowing.

One second passed, a minute, ten minutes … and Yuuri stayed amazingly calm.

Suddenly, he had a new, long-term goal to achieve.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri started with pictures and little videos from his college life. Suddenly he wanted to show his classes, the parks where he had gone with Vicchan, the rink, everything so that Viktor would feel included. He was staying in Japan, still, Yuuri wanted to keep him close. It was silly, pictures of their meals, a secret snapshot of their study group which bored Yuuri to death. Phichit searching for the best angle for his daily Instagram story … One brave evening when Phichit squeezed in some extra training before his professors would suck all his energy, Yuuri gathered all his bravery and called. It was early in the morning in Hasetsu Viktor was probably asleep, but he listened to the rings patiently.

The line clicked.

“Hey …”

“Good morning, solnyshko,” Viktor mumbled sleepily. “I’m glad I didn’t chase you away.”

Never. But Yuuri did not say this out loud. Instead, he started an awkward conversation whose tension lessened by every passing minute.

Neither of them talked about that one night.

 

* * *

 

The calls became a regular thing. Twice a day, every morning and evening was the max Yuuri could squeeze into his schedule. Often he had just a couple of minutes before he had to attend something or Viktor was busy to help at the onsen, to meet Minako.

Both led their current life but the string that spun between them never broke. Instead, it got sturdier, more beautiful and vibrant.

The stream of little messages and photos never dried up, on both sides. Soon Yuuri felt homesick, he missed the little seaside town, the gruff citizens, his family, his mother’s cooking which Viktor enjoyed very much – he didn’t voice his feelings but he couldn’t hide them either. Viktor was engrossed about a college life he never experienced, still discovering every bit and piece about Japanese culture.

The weeks flew by, their routine turned into an everyday occurrence. Yuuri could not imagine falling asleep before wishing his favorite figure skater a good day. He felt awful to lie to Phichit though.

“Who are you calling all these times?” The question popped up more regularly. Like every second day if Yuuri would have kept counting.

“The two weeks I spent in Hasetsu after the GPF I met some old friend from school and we decided to keep in contact.” That explanation went almost too smooth. “Some other Japanese skaters asked me out to dinner during the nationals and we kinda hit off? They’re often asking how I’m doing here in the US and well …”

“So they’re your kohais? Looking up to Japan’s ace?”

“Phichit, I’m not …” Yuuri tried to argue but his roommate didn’t listen.

“Yuuri-sempai, help me, please”, he cooed dramatically. “Yuuri-sempai your spins are amazing!“

It was a blessing that Viktor picked up languages like breathing. After two months he could hold simple conversations with no accent at all and started to move on to harder topics. So his lie that Yuuri got calls from Japan was easily covered because Viktor could greet and ask typical questions like someone born and raised in Kyushuu. He even mastered an English accent stilted with Japanese to ask something like “Can I speak to Yuuri-san, please?” as Phichit curiously picked up the phone once.

Maybe it was a bit selfish but no one should get a hold of their special connection. Plus Yuuri feared the most that Viktor’s stay would end abruptly if the press sniffed him out.

Soon they started even to discuss Yuuri’s routines and upcoming ideas. But these conversations weren’t the base of their new found trust. Yuuri started to unravel the mystery of Viktor Nikiforov, five times champion. With every day his understanding of the man behind the public persona grew. He had seen him at his worst, he was hopefully helping him to recharge after a couple of exhausting and stressful years. And he was falling harder than ever for the silly banter, the subtle flirting, the forgetfulness, all the love and care he gave his dog … Viktor was adoringly human, he bickered with Mari while helping out at the onsen. He was being lectured by the triplets if he messed up his kanji exercises, he sulked with a pout when Yuuri had to hang up due to classes.

He made Yuuri miss a life that would be a dream come true.

 

* * *

 

In February, Four Continents came and went leaving Yuuri devastated as he scraped by the podium by less than 0.08 points. But every piece of advice Celestino offered him would not fit with Yuuri, did not spark his motivation. By the time Worlds arrived Yuuri had openly argued with his coach who did not like the changes Yuuri was going through. Why would he risk his good placing for a routine that was beyond his abilities? Why would he constantly try arguing instead of listening once?

Because he longed for a man halfway across the world who did shower Yuuri with affection but both forbid themselves to call it love.

By the end of that years World’s Yuuri finished 6th, severed ties with Celestino, had a panic attack right before finally opening the result of his bachelor thesis, fearing that he was risking too much based on overly-naïve hope, a dream that would shatter the moment Viktor left Hasetsu and returned to the figure skating circuit back in Russia.

 

* * *

 

It was the last days of April when Yuuri stepped onto the Hasetsu train station after an exhausting flight back home. Due to the cold weather, the sakura trees were still blooming, a month late, but Yuuri barely noticed them. Also, he barely noticed all those posters of him, glued to every possible spot. Being away from home for years he had simply forgotten that he was comparable to the town’s very own hero.

Instead, he focused on a duo, waiting right behind the last turnstile.

Yuuri only had eyes for one man who was waiting patiently while an adorable caramel brown toy poodle sat right beside him. He stopped in his tracks, itching to rub his eyes since …

“Yuuri!” Viktor shouted to greet him and with a silent command Vicchan dashed through the station.

The dog was carrying a small flag with a stitched ‘Welcome home’ into the fabric and Yuuri almost crushed his favorite pet into his arms as Viktor approached him slowly.

“Welcome home, Yuuri”, Viktor said softly, ocean blue eyes only fixed in him. “And congratulations to your degree.”

“Thank you.” A blush crept over his features as Viktor handed him a single deep pink rose.

“As long as you like it”, Viktor replies, a tease edged into his voice, “First I thought of ordering a huge bouquet since I couldn’t attend your graduation ceremony but settled with this one. It’s less noticeable for now.”

Yuuri held the rose close to his heart. So thoughtful of him.

“The bouquet waits for you at the onsen”, Viktor declared then which caused Yuuri to laugh heartily. His dog … their dog yipped happily before sitting down again.

Viktor looked stunning, his vacation made him more relaxed, even more beautiful – how was that even possible? They shared photos ever so often, how did he look so much more enticing, alluring … Get a grip, silly heart. Yuuri chastised himself. Facetime and Skype could only show so much.

Still, Viktor’s sharp edges had softened out, he spotted a healthy sun-kissed skin tone and he was overall radiating. Yuuri looked half of his life up to his idol, plastered his childhood room in posters, but now it was impossible to tear his gaze from Viktor. His eyes roamed over the simple jeans and the light button-down shirt, a brown coat loosely draped over his shoulders. Suddenly Yuuri felt stiff and grim and sweaty … maybe he had wished that Viktor would pick him up, but he belatedly realized that he looked like a mess. He gained a bit weight, too, nothing serious, but his bachelor thesis caused a lot of stress and … that little belly fat would disgust Viktor and …

“Yuuri …” Viktor’s voice pulled him out his head. “Stop that thought whatever it is, your flight took 19 hours. Let me take your luggage and escort you home. Does a long soak in the onsen sound good?”

He nodded along but still hated his messy appearance.

“Your boxes arrived two days ago”, Viktor chattered cheerfully. “Hiroko-oka-san started to prepare a feast back then, your friends and family are waiting for you to show up, you better be starving. I mean … if you want to celebrate … or are you tired, Yuuri?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I am a bit tired, yes, but I slept on the train back to Hasetsu”, he answered with a smile. Since their short meet-up in January, it would the first day spent together. Yet, neither addressed the pink elephant in the room. Neither dared to ask what kind of relationship developed between them in the last months. Instead, they went with the flow and plunged easily into everyday business.

If only he could be as brave as back then in January.

“I’ve missed you.” It was only a whisper, almost covered by noise in the train station but Yuuri caught it. Suddenly Viktor cupped his cheek with one hand and Yuuri leaned into the warmth. “I’ve never thought I could miss someone so dearly who was a continent away from me.”

The silent connection, they both nurtured, hummed happily. A feeling, deeply edged into Yuuri’s being, grown with each call. Yuuri never allowed himself to assume anything else than a blossoming friendship. He never remembered the last night at their hotel in Tokyo and brushed it aside.

He wanted to ask that one special question. He did not dare to. What if Viktor outright rejected him? What if he laughed? What if this feast was for welcoming him back but also saying goodbye to this gorgeous man in front of him?

The distance of the last months created an illusion that it would last, whatever this was. He never thought about this moment, about returning until he had to. Today, right now, his life could have two possible outcomes: one with and one without Viktor.

Then, Yuuri’s gaze settled on the deep pink rose which he was twirling between his fingers nervously. Loud and extravagant Viktor, who was always the center of Yuuri’s attention already had sent him a subtle message. Clear as day, if Yuuri was fine-tuned enough to notice Viktor’s behavior. Clear as day, he held onto everything he could ever ask for.

His mother taught Mari and him a bit of Ikebana as they had been little so he knew the meaning of the flower well: Thank you for being in my life.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

His fears weren’t erased but now it was easy to be brave.

Without thinking, Yuuri got up on his tiptoes and kissed Viktor.

It was chaste. It was short and could be labeled as brushing of lips than a kiss but it was worth it.

As Yuuri’s heart hammered in his chest Viktor blushed beautifully; forehead to neck, the red color even crept under his shirt.

“Yuuri”, Viktor cooed drawing him in a tight embrace until he was settled against his neck. Yuuri tried to rescue the rose desperately but was engulfed by a wave of warmth and a scent like … nothing could be compared to Viktor.

Finally, he eased his stance and leaned into him, rigid shoulders after a long flight losing up.

“I’ve got several offers, even Yakov Feltsamn contacted me”, Yuuri confessed. “At first I thought he wanted to yell at me for hiding you.”

“Somewhere in January I’ve told him about my whereabouts”, Viktor revealed, “I owe him too much to keep him in the dark … I mean he partially raised me since I was eleven. But I did not mention it because it would have worried you. This is probably his way of calling out to me that I should return.”

Yuuri blanched at this.

“No, Yuuri, don’t think that you’re not capable, Yakov would never place an offer if you weren’t worth it. We’ve established an odd relationship as coach and student over the years but Yakov would never jeopardize a skater’s career over myself.”

“Do you want to return to St. Petersburg?”

“No,” Viktor stated. Voice firm and steady. “Maybe for a visit or a vacation but no … I don’t want to live there alone anymore.”

Yuuri wished he would have said that he could accompany him, that he wanted to stay close to him. They would train together, share a cozy apartment near the rink. This fleeting idea had already crossed his mind as he found Viktor in that bathroom stall months ago, and it never left him.

“Viktor”, Yuuri gathered his courage and swallowed hard. “Viktor, be my coach.”

Viktor answered with a bright heart-shaped smile.

“And here I thought you would ask me to be your boyfriend”, he joked before he sealed the offer with a scorching kiss.

 

* * *

 

May marked the beginning of their official, but a secret relationship. Weeks of everything new and exciting, still it felt whole and familiar.

Unusual to his behavior up until now, Yuuri agreed to rest a full month. He rekindled with his friends, with the city he grew up in, he enjoyed every second with Viktor and somehow they didn’t get caught. The world was still searching for the figure skating champion, less frantic, but he was still part of the news regularly.

It was easy living, although neither of them addressed their status. Viktor never got caught shuffling through brochures of estate agents. Yuuri was never overheard when he complained to Yuuko over his fruitless searches for a couple-item that was subtle but very clear in its meaning. Straight-out confessing to Viktor would take more courage than he could gather right now.

One morning, mid-May, when the Katsuki family met for breakfast, it was Hiroko who pushed the topic to be solved. “My old classmate told me yesterday that her Akita Inu has a litter of strong, healthy puppies but she cannot keep them all. Maybe it’s time for Vic-chan to have a companion.”

No one asked whether the head of their family meant the man or the dog.

Viktor and Yuuri shared a glance though. If they adopted a puppy, together, the implications were huge. It was a sign. A start. A promise.

Two days later, Viktor instantly fell in love with the grey one of the bunch and Yuuri suggested calling him “kumo” after the grey-blue storm clouds that gathered above Hasetsu that day.

 

* * *

 

The first Instagram picture of Viktor after his disappearance was released in June. Actually, it was several weeks after it was taken, but Viktor had promised Yuuri to enjoy his off-season first and foremost in peace.

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asked, leaning on Viktor’s side while they were sitting in the common area of the onsen.

“Yes.” Viktor brushed Yuuri’s cheek with a light kiss. “My fans ought to know that I’m perfectly happy here. Those rumors of me being kidnapped by the Russian mafia are getting a little bit ridiculous.” When he uploaded it to his Instagram feed no one could expect whether somebody recognized the background or made an analysis of the blurry-shaped buildings. If so, Hasetsu would be swarmed by sports reporters and fans.

“I’m right here.” Although it was against Japanese customs he snuggled even closer. The other guests already labeled them as too touchy, but since Yuuri studied abroad they blamed it on his stay in Detroit. Being a world-class figure skater surely helped to calm them down though.

“And it’s online,” Viktor whispered showing Yuuri the screen. The caption read in English and Russian: _Do not worry. I’m enjoying my long overdue break to the fullest with the most beautiful man on earth and the two best dogs._

On the picture, Viktor smiled his happiest heart-shaped-smile like a love-struck-fool; looking directly into the camera which Yuuri had held. His eyes were blazing, he was radiating a calm fondness, silver bangs tousled from the sea wind that day. He was sitting on the beach, the ninja castle towered in the background. Yuuri’s focus landed on the two dogs though. Vicchan rested comfortably in Viktor’s arms, next to him a dark grayish Akita inu puppy struggled for attention. The little one was even a bit blurry.

Actually, Vic-chan and Kumo-chan were napping next to them. Kumo-chan had grown quite a bit since then so that the smaller toy poodle used him as a cushion.

Yuuri’s smartphone started to ring but he pushed the caller to voice mail. Seconds later an angry stream of messages appeared on the screen why Yuuri hid Viktor’s stay to his best friend and so on … “Shit, it’s Phichit-kun. I should call him back.”

72 hours later an even angrier Russian Ice Tiger showed up at the doorsteps of YuTopia. At first, he kicked Viktor into the guts for disappearing and forgetting his promise before hugging him briefly and admitting that he scared the hell out of the Russian team.

 

* * *

 

Summer was fully starting as Viktor fully contemplated how his life had changed. Last year he would have been practicing without rest, chasing for a surprise and an emotion that he had to deliver. He would have pushed himself to his limits again in order to fulfill everyone’s expectations.

Instead, Viktor watched Yuuri sleep. It was a peaceful night, the moon was illuminating the former banquet room of Yu-Topia with its silver shine and Viktor listened to Yuuri’s steady breathing. They were a tangle of limbs and covers, the nights were still chilly in Kyushuu, and Viktor enjoyed the warmth of their bodies. Yuuri’s smartphone laid long forgotten beside them as he had presented him eagerly his very own free skate piano composition a few hours ago.

His fingers stroked through Yuuri’s raven strands softly, he would not wake the man from his dreams. In a few hours they would wake up together, train, start to choreograph the missing routine and spent a few hours in a blissful domestic everyday life, playing with Kumo-chan and … he was happy with that. He got plenty of sleep, the most delicious food, found a family that made him finally understand the deep bonds of “kazoku”, a precious puppy, a life full of friends and social gatherings, and Yuuri. Yuuri who made him believe that ‘just’ Victor has always been enough for him that elicited all those feelings Victor never dreamt of experiencing truthfully.

“I love you”, he whispered fondly. He never said it out loud before, so testing it on a sleeping Yuuri seemed to be the best practice. How could he not love every sight of Yuuri? Especially this alluring one when their blankets barely covered his toned body.

Suddenly, Yuuri shifted and his face was so close to Viktor, their noses were almost touching. He had been awake. Did he hear him? Was it too soon? He pondered to take it back but Yuuri’s intense gaze burnt away all doubt and he’s being engulfed in a hug, which made him forget who laughed or cried or why they were all smiles. Next thing Yuuri was on top of him, hands roaming over his body as if he wanted to memorize every inch of it. With a heavy moan, Viktor jerked up as Yuuri pushed his legs open and continued where they had left before falling asleep.

Sweet and slow, Yuuri was torturing him, cherishing him, driving him mad, until all thoughts vanished and an incoherent string of “I love you, my Yuuri, I love you” tumbled over Viktor’s lips. All the times he had been a silent coward caught up on him. He had stayed. Close to him. Closer than anyone before did. And like all those months ago when Viktor exploded into a kaleidoscope of feelings Yuuri hold him gently, waiting for him to pick up the pieces and merge it into something beautiful. Together.

Spent Yuuri toppled on top of him and Viktor considered himself extremely lucky to call that man his.

“What was that?”, Viktor heaved out of breath, fingers kneading through Yuuri’s hair.

“I’m going to ruin you for everyone else”, Yuuri admitted, his very own heartbeat racing against Viktor.

“You already did.”

“I can do better.” He nuzzled closer, they were still joint as Viktor enveloped them into their blankets. “I love you, too, Vitya.”

“Again.”

Yuuri froze for a moment, blinking at him owlishly. Molten chocolate eyes were gleaming in the moonlight. “But we just had … I’m sorry, I don’t think I can …”

And Viktor laughed at this, loud and free. “I’m not opposed to sex, but no. The name, solnyshko, say it again.”

 

* * *

 

The next video which they released showed Viktor doing a ballet session. Unknown to rest of the world Yuuri commented for his love with practiced ease, but a teasing tone. Yuuri had never been fond of giving interviews so no one drew the connection. Setting aside a few other figure skaters who were nice enough to stay silent.

“How was that?” Viktor beamed at him when he finished his last pose.

“You’re still rusty. I really wonder how you move so gracefully on ice.”

“Solnyshko! I’m not that old.” His pout transformed into a mischievous smile and Viktor set into a sprint, leaving the display’s range. A shriek echoed through the ballet studio, followed by a bumping sound as if someone crashed into a wall. For some time all you could hear were the softest sounds in the background.

“Boys!”, suddenly a woman was shouting in Japanese ( and was translated like 5 seconds after being uploaded). “You promised not to make out in my studio. Train, record your video, but you are not allowed to have sex on my floor or against my walls.”

“Minako-sensei …” An embarrassed groan was followed by Viktor snickering. “We’re going to cut this part out.”

“No, we’re not.” A soft, wet noise indicated a kiss. “We’re definitely not. The world should know how much I want you to press against that mirror here.”

The groaning intensified.

“Get out, you two!” A lithe frame of a woman crossed the screen, long wavy hair curling at her back and the video suddenly stopped.

The screen went black several seconds before Viktor re-appeared. Half of his fans would get a nose-bleed because of the new hickey he was sporting at his collar bone. The other half since Viktor put a finger on his lips, whispered a “Pssssht!”, winked and stopped the recording for real.

 

* * *

 

At the official press conference where the JSF presented their skater’s new themes for the season, Viktor decided to stop hiding.

The room went utterly silent as he accompanied Yuuri who was still wearing that hideous tie in order to agitate Viktor.

The room stayed silent as Viktor greeted them in almost perfect Japanese.

A commotion exploded as he explained his new position. “Yuuri helped me at my darkest hour as I was standing on the brink of depression. For the upcoming season, I’ll be his coach since I want to pay back his kindness. The best way to achieve that is to help Japan’s ace win gold at the next GPF in Barcelona. So watch out for the most dazzling and alluring Yuuri Katsuki you’ve ever seen, I was allowed to take a glimpse of it and was mesmerized.”

“Viktor …” Yuuri protested weakly but continued to present his heartfelt theme: Love.

“So you’re retiring?” Some reporter shouted as soon as Yuuri finished.

“No, I’m not retiring officially”, Viktor answered calmly. He anticipated that the questions would focus on him although it was Yuuri’s event. “I’ve dedicated my life to figure skating and all those years all I could think about was the sport. In the end, it wasn’t healthy. I almost drove myself into a corner with no return – yes, even as a champion. No athlete is immune to that risk. Medals won’t protect you from the tolls figure skating demands on body and mind. I cannot stop though, I love creating routines or sticking my nose out of curiosity, but this season I’m going to stay passive and recharge. If I return afterward or not, it’s not going to be decided now. My top priority is my Yuuri.”

Although being streamed live at the Japanese broadcasting system Yuuri put his hand in Viktor’s and intertwined their fingers.

( Somewhere in a small sea-side town in Kyuushu the Katsuki-Yuuri-cheering-squad celebrated. )

“So you’ve been in Japan all this time?”, someone asked further. Viktor and Yuuri shared a glance before Yuuri nodded in agreement.

“Yes,” Viktor revealed with a fond smile. “Since last December I was staying at Yuuri’s hometown.” At least one-third of the Japanese media took out their phones and researched. “If you’re in the area you should check out the beautiful onsen.”

Yuuri forcefully kept his professional smile. Unknown to Viktor, the mayor planned to announce the Russian figure skater as an informal tourist ambassador as soon as they decided to go public.

“Thanks for confirming”, the reporter said quietly before he continued. “But could you tell us why? You could have returned to St. Petersburg by now or send a message way earlier?”

Viktor already sensed the internet breaking in the next couple of hours, heard the gossip columns explode and everyone in every language trying to land a scoop, they would blow everything up, they would disturb their peace at least for a little while… But Yuuri squeezed his hand softly and he continued.

“Because my Yuuri”, Viktor brought their fingers to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on Yuuri’s knuckles, “gave me a once in a lifetime offer I couldn’t refuse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact?  
> I've written the scene Viktor waiting for Yuuri at the Fukuoka airport / Hasetsu train station at the very beginning. It fuelled me to write thousands of words to reach that point ... and I enjoyed every one of them.
> 
> And at last: THANK YOU FOR STAYING WITH ME TILL THE END!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love. ;)  
> Come and talk to me at whiteravensoars.tumblr.com

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[GIFT ART] An Offer He Can't Refuse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16551086) by [ayawanderlust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayawanderlust/pseuds/ayawanderlust)




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